Stranger Than You Dreamt It
by Roaming Tigress
Summary: What happens when you have DWD characters portray the story of The Phantom of The Opera? Read on to find out! Feedback of any type is welcome and appreciated.
1. Introductory

Stranger Than You Dreamt It   
By Roaming Tigress and Tammy Wraight, whom allowed me use of her character, Faith Conway   
  
  


**Introductory**   
  
The year was 1905. The place, the stage of the grand St. Canard Operahouse. 

Preparations were underway to auction off props from various productions, noticeably Chalumeau's "Hannibal." Among other curiosities on display on top of the stage, there was a papier mache Persian robe-wearing monkey holding a pair of cymbols in its paws, and a large wooden manually operated elephant. In the very far corner laid a large object covered with a sheet of linen. More ordinary items such as posters and costumes were auctioned off earlier that day. 

A middle aged, well-dressed stork held up a trio of duck skulls a wooden pistol atop a wooden plank. "Lot 663 ladies and gentleman, a wooden pistol and three mallard skulls from "Robert le Diable" by Meyerbeer. Going for eight-fifty for the entire set. Eight-fifty, thank you madame. Eight-fifty still. Fifteen, thank you sir. I bid for thirteen. Your number sir?" 

After the items were handed to the bidder, he pointed his staff toward the elephant. "Lot 664, now. This magnificent beast was used in the production of "Hannibal." Going for one-hundred and ten. One hundred ten, thank you sir. Two-fifty six! Sold for three-hundred and six. Your number, sir?" 

As two mallards moved the elephant to the back of the stage and down a ramp to be taken by the bidder, the stork picked up the monkey. "Lot 665 ladies and gentlemen, now. A papier musical box in the shape of a barrel organ. Attached is the figure of a monkey in Persian robes playing cymbols. Of unknown origin, this was discovered in the vaults of the theater, in near perfect condition." 

He demonstrates by turning the handle, which plays a tune that catches the attention of a frail white mallard in a wheelchair. As far as anyone could tell, the old fellow was well into his seventies, but his mind was still sharp. There was something about the music of this particular item that brought back memories. Fond memories, frightful memories, uncertain memories. 

" . . . May I start a start at fifty? Thirty, then. Thirty-five, thank you." 

The old duck suddenly shot up his hand, his gravely voice as clearly as it was many years ago. "Eighty-five!" 

"Sold to Lord Negaduck for eighty-five!" The auctioneer barked, handing the monkey over to the older gentleman and taking the eighty-five dollars given to him. 

The mallard ran his arthritis stiffened, gnarled hands over the music box. "Faith spoke of you often . . . " He to the musical box, ignoring the odd looks from the others. His hard, cold eyes had softened somewhat as he thought of his deceased wife. 

The stork stepped off his podium, making a beeline towards the large, obscured object in the corner. "This, ladies and gentleman, is a chandelier in pieces. Some of you may remember the story of The Phantom of The Opera, a legend never fully explained. Our workshops restored it to it's former glory and fitted parts of it with new electric light. Perhaps we may scare away that frightful ghost of years ago with a show of illumination!" The stork stepped back to pull off the sheet and to pull a switch on the wall. 

As the huge chadelier is lifted up to the ceiling with the use of chains, there is a collective group of "oohs" and "aaahs" from the gathering. Negaduck, however, remains silent as he watches it hover above the aisles. As the operahouse and it's chandelier are brought back to their former glory, his mind slowly leads him back to 1881. . . 

Disclaimer: All characters are © Disney, excluding Faith Mallard who is is © Tammy Wraight. Story based on and lyric segments are © Lord Andrew LLoyd Weber/Really Useful Theater Company/Cameron Mackintosh's and Gaston LeRoux's "The Phantom of The Opera". 


	2. Think of Me

Stranger Than You Dreamt It   
By Roaming Tigress and Tammy Wraight, whom allowed me use of her character, Faith Conway   
  


**Chapter One:**

**Think Of Me**

  
  
1881, St. Canard Operahouse. 

All was going well for the rehearsal of "Hannibal." That was until Grizlikoff, playing the lead role, mispronounced "Rome." With his thick Russian accent, it was an easy enough mistake for him to make. Others would forgive him for the error and would continue on. However, one certain member of the cast decided to point out the mistake.

This particular cast member was Tuskerninni, a walrus, and a bit of a perfectionist in the acting field. "Pardon me, sir, it's "Rome," not "Roma!"" He corrected with annoyance to his tone, crossing his large arms over his chest.

The burly bear shook his head with a nod. "Rome, not Roma . . . Rome. English is not my first language, you know that! It is very difficult for me." He growled in frustration, dramatically throwing his hands up in the air.

"Once again, Vladimir, if you please, sir -- "sad to return"!" Tuskerninni insisted, not noticing the peeved glares of the ballerina girls whom were waiting to get back to practicing.

Observing the rehearsal in the public's seating area was J. Gander Hooter, whom had just ushered in two white drakes. For unexpected reasons he had decided to retire from managing the opera house. While he was past his prime, he was still very spry and healthier than he had been in his youth. He could've carried on his job for a few more years.

"Now, as you see here, rehearsals are underway for our latest production of Hannibal." J. Gander notices there is a break in the practice and decides to take this time to attract the attention of the cast members.

"Ladies and gentlemen, perhaps some of you have met Mr. Drake Mallard and Mr. Fenton Crackshell -- " He was interrupted by Tuskerninni.

"I'm sorry, sir, but as you can see, we are rehearsing. Another time, perhaps?"

Heaving a sigh, J. Gander Hooter decided to let them get on with business. "My apologizes, Mr. Tuskerninni. Please continue on."

Satisfied, the walrus turns his attention back on Grizlikoff. "Sad to return -- "

"Tuskerninni, our lead repertoire," J. Gander quietly informed the two ducks. "He gets the job done well, but he's rather bossy, I'm afraid."

"I have noticed . . . " Drake Mallard grumbled under his breath as the rehearsal resumed. The ballet girls started their dance, and Grizlikoff sang remarkably well, in spite of his problems with the English language.

"Vladimir Grizlikoff," J. Gander nodded in the bear's direction. "Our principle tenor, right from Russia. He plays the part well, not as well as the Italian gentleman we had here the previous year, but good enough."

"If you don't mind me asking . . . Who is the ballet mistress?" Fenton asked, referring to a white feathered she duck with moderately length black hair. Wearing all black, she looked as if she more appropriately dressed for a funeral, let alone a rehearsal.

"Victoria Volatili," J. Gander answered, a little hastily. "If you don't mind me saying this, I shant miss this business when I leave." The other ducks picked up on his anxiousness, and became curious as to why he was in such a hurry to go. Something wasn't quite right.

"I keep meaning to ask you, but why exactly are you retiring?" Drake Mallard asked. "I know a man of your age is ready to settle down, but you said yourself a year ago, that you wanted this job for at least five more years -- "

J. Gander acted as if he didn't hear his question, and kept introducing the to the cast. "Our ballet girls are among the best . . ." One girl in the group, a blonde haired and feathered hybrid of chicken and duck, was particularly good. "Tatiana, for example, the daughter of Victoria. She's only eight years old, and more talented than some of our singers."

Quite suddenly, one of the ladies in the ballet suddenly stumbles in her footing, and she is swiftly corrected. "You, Faith Conway! Concentrate, mate, concentrate! " Victoria shouted, irritably banging a cane against the stage.

The lady, an undoubtedly attractive, brown feathered duck with blue eyes and blonde hair, jumped back and resumed her dancing as ordered.

"What's the matter?" Tatiana asked with concerned. Normally Faith was quite good at her footwork, so it came to her as a surprise at her sudden stumbling.

"Just a bit clumsy, that's all!" Faith shrugged, forcing a smile so that she wouldn't let the child know that something really was troubling her.

"Conway, Conway . . . Any relation to - - " Fenton started, scratching the top of his feathered head.

"His daughter, I believe," J. Gander answered quickly, his eyes darting around a bit. "Always has such a imagination, that girl."

With some difficulty, a triumphant Grizlokov is lifted onto a mechanical, life-size replica of an elephant that was rolled onto the back of the stage. Fenton smiled wryly at this, glad that he wasn't the one having to lift him up on there.

"Morgana Macawber has been with us for five seasons." J. Gander remarked in regards to a rather tall, black-and-white haired female duck in a red dress. She had moved up in front of the elephant as she sung. "Her salary is dear, but we keep her as she is very popular among the public."

"I have a feeling some members of the public come to see her for reasons other than her singing ability!" Drake smirked.

Without bothering to reply to the mallard's cheeky remark about Macawber, J. Gander got up off his seat and cleared his throat. The rehearsal had been finished, and he wanted to get everyone's attention before they left. Morgana Macawber left before he got the chance to call her back.

"Ladies and gentleman, may I have your attention?"

"Again?" Tuskerninni grumbles under his breath, quickly elbowed by the Russian.

"As you may all know by know, there has been several rumours about my retirement," J. Gander continues, placing his hands on the shoulders of the new managers. "I would like to inform you that these rumours are in fact, true. It is my pleasure to introduce to you the two fine gentlemen who will now run the opera house, Mr. Drake Mallard and Mr. Fenton Crackshell."

The rehearsal went back in full swing, until all of a sudden a few members of the chorus cried out as they hear Morgana's cry, and one swore that she saw the glimpse of a shadowy figure. "He's here, The Phantom of The Opera! He's here!" Their calls send a chill down Faith's spine, and she shrunk back into the curtain.

"The what?!" Fenton exclaimed, looking at J. Gander in panic. "You've never told us that -- "

"Just the chief of the flies playing tricks on us again," J. Gander sighed, making his way up to the stage. The other two followed, curious to find out what was going on. "McQuack, he does this often to scare the girls. There is no 'Phantom of The Opera'." There are collective groans from the other two.

"Please, sir, do not put the blame on me!" McQuack begged, coming up to greet him. "It was not me -- I wasn't at my post!" To his disbelief, the owl didn't believe him.

Tatiana shrunk back to hide with Faith, her teal eyes wide with fright. "He's there . . . The Phantom of The Opera . . . "

"Time for me to make my exit," J. Gander said, making his way back down the stage. "If you need me, I shall be in New York." With that, he hurried his way out.

"I have a message from the Opera Ghost . . . " Victoria spoke up, approaching Drake Mallard with a folded piece of parchment paper in her hand.

"Well, someone's obsessed with ghost stories!" Drake remarked, rolling his eyes.

Victoria, ignoring his disbelief, reads the note out to him. "He welcomes you to the opera house and requires you to leave box five empty for his use, and that his salary is due."

"His salary?" Fenton asked, wondering whether or not he was managing a opera house, and not an asylum.

"J. Gander paid him sixty dollars every month," Victoria replied. "With Lord Negaduck as your patron for tonight's private showing, I am certain that you can afford more."

"Morgana has disappeared!" One of the chorus girls announced, running up towards the three. "I checked her dressing room, everywhere possible that she may be at!"

Drake sighed as he heard this, wondering what could go wrong next. "Who do you suppose will understudy for her role?" He asked the lead repertoire.

"There is no understudy," Tuskerninni answered with disdain. "The production is new."

Tatiana cautiously stepped out of hiding and approached the walrus. "Faith can sing it, sir."

"The chorus girl?" Fenton laughed.

Tatiana had confidence in Faith. "She has had lessons from a great teacher."

"From whom, if you don't mind me asking?" Drake asked Faith as she too stepped out from behind the curtain.

"I can't tell, because I don't know . . . " Faith replied slowly with a light shrug. It was the truth, strange as it seemed to the new managers. Not once had she even seen a glimpse of the one responsible for bettering her singing ability. She had only heard her mysterious instructor's voice.

"Let her sing for you, gentleman, she has been well taught!" Victoria insisted.

Later that day, the rehearsal -- as hectic as it was, had paid off. The actors had performed very well, and all that was left was Faith's final performance for the night.

"Think of me, think of me fondly, when we've said goodbye. Remember me every so often -- promise me you'll try -- " She sung as best as she could, although there was certainly room for improvement. Her notes were a touch too high for Drake's liking.

"This is getting on my nerves . . . " He said between gritted teeth.

"No need to fret, Mallard!" Fenton cheerily reassured him.

"On that day, that not so distant day, when you are far away and free, if you ever find a moment, spare a thought for me . . . " Faith continued to sing, a little better this time around.

In the box with Fenton and his momentarily moody associate was the young Lord Negaduck. He was a distinguished white mallard with sharp blue eyes and a classy tuxedo, and he suddenly stood up, recognizing the singer. _She may not remember me, but I remember her! We were childhood companions, her and I. I retriever her handkerchief from the river, and the rest is history._

"BRAVO!" He called out to her when her act was over, tossing her a bouquet of roses which she caught. She was so overwhelmed that didn't know whom it was at first.

A proud Victoria approached Faith with a wide smile as she made her way towards her dressing room. "You were wonderful, Faith! Simply wonderful!" Her smile soon disappeared as she saw her dancers slink around the corner.

"You, on the other hand, were disgraces . . . !" She shouted, quickly approaching them. "Come, we rehearse! Right this minute!"

As Faith stepped into her dressing room, a seemingly disembodied male voice praised her. Although the sound of his voice chilled her, it intrigued her as well.

"Bravi, bravi, bravissimi . . . "

Disclaimer: All characters are © Disney, excluding Faith Mallard who is is © Tammy Wraight, and Victoria and Tatiana Volatili, whom belong to Roaming Tigress. Story based on and lyric segments are © Lord Andrew LLoyd Weber/Really Useful Theater Company/Cameron Mackintosh's and Gaston Leroux's "The Phantom of The Opera".


	3. Little Lotte, let the mind wander

Stranger Than You Dreamt It   
By Roaming Tigress and Tammy Wraight, whom allowed me use of her character, Faith Conway   
  
  


**Chapter Two**

**Little Lotte, let her mind wander . . .**   
  
Tatiana's curiosity was quickly getting the better of her. After changing out of her ballet wardrobe and into a white dress, she made her way to Faith's dressing room and knocked on the door. Her mother was discussing something with Grizlikoff and the new managers, and knowing her social nature, she knew she would be talking with them for some time. 

"Faith?" 

"Yes, Tatiana?" Faith answered from inside her room. "Please, do come in if you wish. I'm decent!" 

"Is there something you are hiding from us? You were perfect tonight, honest!" The girl asked, opening the door and taking a seat on the edge of the small bed. 

_ If only the reason for my hiding was something as simple as humiliation, child. If only._ She thanked the girl while placing a few combs and other accessories inside a drawer. In front of it was a tall and elegantly gold framed, floor-to-ceiling height mirror. 

Tatiana didn't wait to hear from an answer from the grown she-duck. "Who is this tutor you spoke of? Surely you do know who he is." She must have been a bit of a pest by now, but Faith remained very tolerant of her. 

"Well, Tatiana . . . " Faith answered as if in a trance, looking at herself in the mirror. "My father once spoke of an angel. An angel of music. I dreamt that he would appear, and this tutor . . . He's like a phantom! One moment he's there, the next, he's gone." 

"More like a ghost, I'd say . . . " Tatiana said quietly, seeing how haunted Faith's face looked. She had never seen someone look so scared before. 

"Or maybe he's just really, really shy. Some people can't -- " Faith wanted to say more but she was interrupted when Victoria barged her way in. 

"You, Tatiana! I have been looking all over for you. Come, you must practice!" She handed Faith a note and apologized for her daughter's interruption. 

"She was no problem, Victoria. I can assure you. I actually liked having a bit of company around," Faith replied, taking the note. 

"I'll see you later, Tatiana." She nodded, watching the child obediently follow her mother out of the room to join with the other dancers. 

"Angel of music, hide no longer, secret and strange angel . . . " Faith said out loud when the door was closed. With a raised eyebrow, she read over the note. 

"Attic . . . Little Lotte . . . Red scarf?" Not remembering anything of the sort, she quickly discarded it. It was unsigned, but she didn't think much of it and quickly discarded it. No one special, she thought, otherwise they would've left their initials. 

At another part of the backstage area, Negaduck, Fenton and Drake, were making their way down toward Faith's dressing room. They are in good spirits, bringing champagne and caviar with them, and decided to ask her out to come and celebrate the show's success. 

"No other way to describe it, it was a tour de force!" Fenton grinned. "A full house, no refunds, can't get any better than that now, can we gentlemen?" 

"Indeed not!" Drake bragged. "I think we made quite a fine decision in having that chorus girl play Morgana's role." 

Lord Negaduck smiled, straightening out his bowtie. He wanted to look as proper as could be. "If you don't mind, gentlemen, this is one visit I wish to make unaccompanied. Conway and I have a lot of catching up with the old times." 

"As you wish, sir." Drake Mallard nodded, handing the champagne and caviar to Lord Negaduck. With a polite nod and bow, the two left him be. 

Faith was just about to drift off to a nap when she heard someone knocking on the door. Lately the girl couldn't rest for a moment without someone coming to see her for some reason or another. With a groan, she got up and went to see who it was this time. 

"Faith Conway, where is your red scarf?" Negaduck asked as she opened the door, using his most charming smile. 

"I beg your pardon?" She asked the dashing duck, having no clue as to what he was talking about. "Were you the one who sent me that note?" 

"You can't have lost it! Soaked to the skin I was, retrieving it for you . . . We were only fourteen at the time!" He exclaimed, astonished by her loss of memory. 

Suddenly, it all came back to Faith. She did remember this young mallard! Not much had changed appearance wise. He was roughly as tall as he was when she knew him in her teenage years, but he had filled out nicely while still maintaining an agile figure. Back in her homeland of England, she could have had the pick of any of the men she fancied, but she only had eyes for the mallard. 

Personality wise, he was the same Negaduck; bold, showy, a bit arrogant, yet suave. She wondered, though, if he was still a bit of a troublemaker. 

". . . Because you had run into the river to fetch it for me. Oh, Negaduck! It is you!" So many things had happened in Faith's life that made her forget about Negaduck. The death of her family members in a mass slaughter, not to mention, her new career. 

She welcomed him inside, and to his surprise, she had given him a warm embrace. At first he was startled by it, but gave her one in return. 

"Little Lotte, let her mind wander . . . " Negaduck grinned, adjusting the collar of his jacket that had been misaligned slightly when she hugged him. The two sat together at the edge of the bed, glad to be finally be together again after all these years. 

"You remember that to . . . " She said softly, with a twinkle in her eye. 

With a nod, Negaduck continued as he took a strain of her hair in his fingers. ". . . Little Lotte thought -- am I fonder of dolls . . ." 

"Or of goblins, of shoes, or of riddles, of frocks . . ." She added lightly, laughing a little. "Or of chocolates?" She had always did have a sweet-tooth, while her young drake friend never did come to appreciate it. 

"There were those picnics in the attics . . . " Negaduck recalled, almost tasting the food they shared up in the attic of father Conway's castle. 

"Father playing on the violin . . . " She could almost hear her father's music in her ears. 

Negaduck spoke mysteriously, placing his arm around her shoulders with a sly smile. "As we read dark stories of the North . . . " 

Slowly, Faith placed her arm around his waist and leaned her head against her shoulder. "Father said when he was in heaven, he would send the Angel of Music to me. Father is dead now, and I have been visited by The Angel of Music." 

It was all her imagination, Negaduck thought. He took her hand, and gave it a gentle kiss. "There's no doubt of it, but dinner awaits us. A candlelight dinner, the finest you could ever ask for." Force was part of his nature, and in spite of his gentlemanly attitude, he was not going to take "no" for an answer. 

Fearfully, Faith shook her head. God, how she would have love to go out for dinner with him, after all these years of not having seen each other. "No, Negaduck. The Angel of Music is very strict. I-I cannot go tonight. Maybe tomorrow, or the next . . ." 

The mallard just laughed at this, overlooking the fright that was in her violet blue eyes. "Oh, I won't keep you up late!" 

"No, Negaduck . . . " 

The mallard persisted. "You must change. I must get my hat. Two minutes, Little Lotte, no longer!" He hurried out, leaving Faith behind. As he closed the door behind him, she heard that disembodied voice again. This time, instead of coming from no apparent location, the source of it seemed to be coming from behind the mirror. 

"Forget about Lord of Fools, and come to me, my Angel of Music . . . " The voice, threatening as it was, had a transfixing effect on her. As if she was being walked off a plank with a knife against her back, she tentatively approached at his command. 

The she-duck's reflection was gradually replaced by a thick blue fog. As some of it drifted away, the silhouette of a large figure wearing a cape and a fedora, appeared. Faith held back, clasping her hands together as a touch of lighting hinted off a frightful metal mask that seemed to be attached to a beak. As the lighting improved, she saw that this mysterious figure was a tuxedo wearing rooster, and a particularly intimidating one at that. His intense stare seemed to go straight through her. 

"Come to me, Angel of Music . . . Come to me!" He demanded, his voice louder now as he held his hand out to her. Suddenly the dresser fell to its side, startling poor Faith all the more. Without making another move, he watched her cringe against the back of her door, almost able to hear her heart pound out of her chest. 

Negaduck took a little longer to get back than he had thought. The managers had stopped him along the way, wondering how his private appointment went. He simply told them the truth; it went well, and that she was coming to the dinner whether she liked it or not. 

"What the . . . ?" He heard the mysterious voice beckon to Faith, and heard her say something in return, but couldn't quite make out what it was. Thinking she was in some sort of trouble, he went to open the door. Unfortunately, it was locked. 

"Faith, who is that in there with you?" When he heard no answer, he called for her again. "Faith, Faith! Answer me NOW!" 

Inside, Faith was slowly re-approached the mysterious individual who scared her so. When she came close enough, the rooster violently grabbed her wrist and pulled her towards him. His touch was cold and she shuddered from it, but as she was still in a trance, she didn't feel she was in any real danger. 

At last, the door was unlocked -- but as Negaduck opened it, Faith was nowhere to be seen. There seemed to have been a struggle; he saw the drawer was turned over, and the various combs and other items were left scattered on the ground. His heart skipped a beat as he feared the worst had happened to her. 

"Faith . . . ? Angel!" 

Disclaimer: All characters are © Disney, excluding Faith Mallard who is is © Tammy Wraight, and Victoria and Tatiana Volatili, whom belong to Roaming Tigress. Story based on and lyric segments are © Lord Andrew LLoyd Weber/Really Useful Theater Company/Cameron Mackintosh's and Gaston Leroux's "The Phantom of The Opera". 


	4. Music of The Night

**Stranger Than You Dreamt It**   
By Roaming Tigress and Tammy Wraight, whom allowed me use of her character, Faith Conway   
  


**Chapter Three**

**Music of The Night**  
  
Still keeping a firm grip on Faith's wrist, the masked rooster -- The Phantom of The Opera, the Angel of Music -- lead her down a winding, dark staircase made of stone. He grabbed a black cloak which hung up from a wooden peg on the way, and placed it on without letting go of her. She tried pulling away from him at this moment, but he held on all the more tighter. 

"W-where are you taking me?" Faith asked fearfully, her eyes wide as the noticed a blueish light at the end of the staircase. 

The Phantom didn't respond, and he grabbed a lantern that was left on the stairs as they made their way down.Unintentionally, he was just whetting her curiosity all the more. 

"Well, can you at least please tell me why are you wearing a mask?" Faith was more fascinated than scared when she asked this second question. There had to be some sort of reason why it covered most of his face. He seemed an otherwise handsome individual, so what did he have to hide? 

Quite suddenly, the robust rooster stopped in his tracks, thrusting his face into hers. "You ask too many questions, Conway!" 

As the rooster's face came a bit too close for comfort, Faith could see that there was what appeared to be some sort of shield covering each of his jaws. How ghastly, she thought. Why on earth would someone need _two_ masks for? Previously she had thought that it was just part of the mask, covering the beak. 

She looked down shamefully at the ground, breaking the intense eye contact with him. "I'm sorry . . . " She hated to disappoint the tutor who was responsible for bettering her career. 

"You will forget about dat fop, if you knew what was best!" The Phantom growled in reference to Lord Negaduck, whom he viewed as a competitor for the attention of the she-duck. Becoming angry at just thinking about him, he unintentionally took it out on Faith as he fiercely pulled her down the rest of the stairs when she refused to go any further. 

_ That fop!? How dare he insult such a fine gentleman! _Faith scowled at The Phantom's remark about Lord Negaduck. In protest, she suddenly punched the robust fellow in the back as hard as she could. Sadly, it went ignored as she was dragged out onto the embankment of an underground river. 

Cold, winding mist drifted over the water, and tied to the embankment was a gondola. The Phantom's violent attitude seemed to change to suavity as he escorted her toward it. Much to Faith's relief, he released his hold on her. Not surprisingly, she was bruised from where she was grabbed, and but was lucky that her shoulder wasn't yanked out of alignment by the way she was jerked around. 

"In you go . . . " He said with a graceful bow, gesturing toward the boat. The rooster prepared to pounce should Faith consider taking this moment to run away. To his surprise, however, she calmly obeyed and he got in it after her. 

'What an utterly bizarre place . . . ' Faith thought, noticing the elaborate stonework of the ceiling and walls that surrounded her. She had to admit, though, the labyrinth, suitably gothic in style, was beautiful in its own way. Her fascination was further piqued when the gondola was guided through a lantern-lit tunnel. At the end of it, partially obscured by an iron portcullis, was The Phantom's lair. 

"What do you think?" The Phantom proudly asked as the portcullis opened. The boat came to a stop at a wooden pier, he stepped out of it and held his hand out for her. 

"It's . . . Beautiful . . . " Faith remarked truthfully with just a hint of a smile. She was still very scared, and it showed as she reluctantly took his hand. With gentlemanly suavity, she was escorted up the steps from the pier and into the lair that contained various items from across the world. There were rugs from Persia and Afghanistan; fine ebony wood furniture, and at the very back, a pipe organ with two giant candelabras on each side of it. 

"Not as beautiful as you," The Phantom smiled, taking her aback by this remark. "I have never seen anyone as beautiful as you, nor heard someone with a voice as fine as yours." He walked back to the boat, taking it into his "lair." Not only did it serve as a mode of transportation, but it was a bed as well. 

Had Faith not been so shocked by his forwardness, she would've thanked him for his compliments. "I take it you live here?" She wanted to change the subject, and it did work -- for a while. 

"I would not live anywhere else," The Phantom cooed, placing his hands on her shoulders. "I want you to live 'ere, wit' me. You will love it here!" 

Faith shook her head, ducking away from his hands. Truth be told, she didn't like being touched by anyone aside from Lord Negaduck. This Phantom of The Opera was certainly no exception, especially as it seemed that he was getting a tad too obsessive for her liking. It was one thing that he was bent on improving her singing, another that he wanted her to live with him. 

"I cannot do that!" She sharply retorted. 

"Oh, but you must!" He insisted, backing her against a wall. Faith saw the wild desperation in his eyes, and her heart started pounding louder than it ever had before as he clamped his hands onto her shoulders, effectively keeping her in one place. 

"Really, you must understand -- " Faith started. 

Although she didn't see it, the savagery in The Phantom's eyes waned somewhat as he released her. He took a seat on the pipe organ, and he played it as he began to sing. 

_I have brought you_   
_to the seat of sweet_   
_music's throne . . ._   
_To this kingdom_   
_where all must pay_   
_homage to music . . ._   
_Music . . ._

_You have come here,_   
_for one purpose,_   
_and one alone . . ._   
_Since the moment_   
_I first heard you sing,_   
_I have needed_   
_you with me,_   
_to serve me, to sing,_   
_For my music . . ._   
_My music . . ._

The mood of the song changed from sounding desperate to charmingly hypnotizing. The Phantom got up off his seat, gradually accustoming Faith to his frigid touch. His fingers moved from the back of her thin neck to the shoulders, but nowhere else. He wanted her to feel more comfortable in his presence, and it was beginning to work. To the she-duck, his touch didn't seem so chilling now. 

The Phantom's voice was rather harsh when he spoke, and he practically snarled with every word that came out of him. Yet, his singing voice was another matter. It was surprisingly soft yet strong, and there was a certain melancholy quality to it. 

_Night time sharpens,_   
_heightens each sensation . . ._   
_Darkness stirs and_   
_wakes imagination . . ._   
_Silently the senses_   
_abandon their defenses . . ._

_Slowly, gently_   
_night unfurls its splendour . . ._   
_Grasp it, sense it -_   
_tremulous and tender . . ._   
_Turn your face away_   
_from the garish light of day,_   
_turn your thoughts away_   
_from cold, unfeeling light -_   
_and listen to_   
_the music of the night . . ._

_Close your eyes_   
_and surrender to your_   
_darkest dreams!_   
_Purge your thoughts_   
_of the life_   
_you knew before!_   
_Close your eyes,_   
_let your spirit_   
_start to soar!_   
_And you'll live_   
_as you've never_   
_lived before . . ._

_Softly, deftly,_   
_music shall caress you . . ._   
_Feel it, hear it,_   
_secretly possess you . . ._   
_Open up your mind,_   
_let your fantasies unwind,_   
_in this darkness which_   
_you know you cannot fight -_   
_the darkness of_   
_the music of the night . . ._

_Let your mind_   
_start a journey through a_   
_strange new world!_   
_Leave all thoughts_   
_of the world_   
_you knew before!_   
_Let your soul_   
_Take you where you_   
_long to be!_   
_Only then_   
_can you belong_   
_to me . . ._

_Floating, falling,_   
_sweet intoxication!_   
_Touch me, trust me_   
_savour each sensation!_   
_Let the dream begin,_   
_let your darker side give in_   
_to the power of the music that I write -_   
_the power of the music of the night . . ._

The flow of the song had made Faith feel like she was floating. It was indeed a beautiful song, but she was too awed to say anything about it. Out of curiosity, she reached out and touched the mask without showing any desire to remove it. Faith noticed that he didn't protest to this, and followed him as he lead her to a mirror that was covered with a black sheet of cloth. 

The Phantom removed the sheet, revealing a perfect wax figurine likeness of Faith that the real one approached with astonishment. Unexpectedly, the figure lunged out at her and she fainted. Before she hit the ground, The Phantom caught her. 

As he rested her down into the bed, his voice was a pleading tone. "You alone can make my song take flight -- help me make the music of the night." 

Disclaimer: All characters are © Disney, excluding Faith Mallard who is is © Tammy Wraight, and Victoria and Tatiana Volatili, whom belong to Roaming Tigress. Story based on Gaston Leroux's "The Phantom of The Opera." Lyrics and lyric segments are © Lord Andrew Lloyd Weber/Really Useful Theater Company/Cameron Mackintosh.


	5. Stranger Than You Dreamt It

Stranger Than You Dreamt It   
By Roaming Tigress and Tammy Wraight, whom allowed me use of her character, Faith Conway   
Notes: I do realize that I misplaced Music of The Night and The Phantom of The Opera' songs in this chapter. I did this on purpose.   
  
  
  


**Chapter Four**

Stranger Than You Dreamt It   
  
The tiny glint of morning sun peeked through a small prison-type window and reflected onto the sleeping form of Faith. Beside her was a barrel organ shaped musical box, with a cymbal-holding monkey sitting on top of it. As she awoke, it started playing a mysterious tune, bringing her back to an almost amnesia-like daze. She could remember a misted lake, a boat, and a mysterious man, but not much more than that. The details of her being brought down to the labyrinth were sketchy at the very most, as if she had just woke up from a dream. 

Sitting in an elegant throne in front of the pipe organ was The Phantom, wearing a fine Persian robe. He was playing with intense concentration and stopping now and then to jot down notes. Finally, he settled upon something that he liked and Faith started to sing to the melody. 

"In sleep   
he sang to me,   
in dreams   
he came . . .   
that voice   
which calls to me   
and speaks   
my name . . . " 

The Phantom glanced over his broad shoulder, clearly impressed. _Very good, Faith! Very good! You'll even get better, once you sing only for me . . ._

"And do   
I dream again?   
For now   
I find   
the Phantom of the Opera   
is there -   
inside my mind . . . " 

Inspired, The Phantom joined in. He got up off his seat, and strangely so, as if it was possessed, the pipe organ continued to play as it was left unattended. 

"Sing once   
again with me,   
our strange   
duet . . .   
My power   
over you   
grows stronger   
yet . . . " 

At he approached her from behind, the rooster placed a hand to her cheek. She turned her head aside as he tried to get her to look at him. 

"And though   
you turn from me,   
to glance   
behind,   
the Phantom of the Opera   
is there -   
inside your mind . . . " 

Faith turned to face The Phantom and looked up at him, unaffected by his cold stare. She reached her hand up to his mask and unlike the last time she did this, she had full intent on removing it. 

"Those who   
have seen your face   
draw back   
in fear . . .   
I am   
the mask you wear . . . " 

The rooster grabbed her arm as her hand was just inches from his face. With a low growl, he threateningly pressed his face up against hers. "It's me dey 'ear . . . !" 

With a wicked grin, The Phantom roughly released her and returned to playing the pipe organ. The song became more extravagant as their two voices were woven together. 

"Your/my spirit   
and your/my voice,   
in one   
combined:   
the Phantom of the Opera   
is there,   
inside your/my mind . . . !" 

The Phantom became the soul singer as he grasped an arm around Faith's waist and pulled her close to him. Had she not been in a trance, she would've fought against this forcible restraint. Instead, she just kept singing. 

"In all   
your fantasies,   
you always   
knew   
that man   
and mystery" 

"Were both in you!" Faith replied, once more singing in duet with her volatile tutor. 

"And in   
this labyrinth,   
where night   
is blind,   
the Phantom of the Opera   
is there/here   
inside your/my mind . . . " 

"Sing, my Angel of Music! Sing for me!" The Phantom demanded, throwing his hands back dramatically as she stopped singing. Unknownst to him, Faith had snuck behind her and quite suddenly, she tore off his mask. 

"DAMN YOU!" The Phantom roared, leaping off the throne and giving Faith a clear view of his face as he rounded her fiercely. 

"Now you will only sing for me!" He added, giving her a slap across her face that was so brutal it had knocked her off her feet - and out of her trance. 

_ My god . . . Why did you have to do something stupid like that?_ Faith gasped, getting up and shrinking away with her mask-clutching hand to her now bleeding bill. She had never seen someone like a face like The Phantom's. It was a face of death -- she couldn't describe it in any other way. Despite the horror, she couldn't stop staring at it. 

The rooster's beak was horrifically misshapen. It was if someone had partially melt it and then bent it up in a permanent snarl that exposed his yellowed teeth and receding gumline. Two hollow triangular spaces, from the edge of his beak to almost the tip, replaced his nonexistent nostrils and nasal cavity. They resembled macabre windows in a strange sort of way, and a strip of bone on the bridge of his beak appeared to the only thing that held the jaw together. His lower jaw didn't fare much better. It jutted out like a bulldog, and there was a v-shaped split in the middle. 

The rest of his face was not spared from deformity. Bone and muscle surrounding the edges and joints of his mandibles were also exposed. Aside from his cheek tufts, the feathering to his face was sparse, and his dry skin was stretched tightly over his skull. 

"It's stranger den you dreamt it, isn't it?" The Phantom demanded furiously, pointing to his face and not letting Faith respond. Stripped of his mask, his pride and anger fell. He felt ugly, vulnerable, wanting nothing more than to run away and hide forever, just as he did when he first came to seek refuge in the labyrinth. 

"Fear not, Faith. Fear can turn to love. You'll learn to see, to find de man behind de monster -- dis repulsive carcass who seems a beast, but secretly dreams of beauty, secretly . . . Secretly . . . " He crawled towards her on his stomach, holding his hand out for her to hand him the mask. 

It was then thatFaith felt sorry for the pitiful creature. She saw the sadness in his sunken eyes, the surprising sensitivity that was in his soul. Still, that sting from the slap to her face reminded her that he dangerous and kept on her guard. _He's a madman, Faith, just a desperately obsessive, sad madman._ _He wants me, but he can't have me -- my heart is for Lord Negaduck. _With an apolgetic expression, she handed the mask to him. 

With a nod, The Phantom took it and placed it back on. "Come, we must return. Dose two fools will be missing us!" 

Disclaimer: All characters are © Disney, excluding Faith Mallard who is is © Tammy Wraight, and Victoria and Tatiana Volatili, whom belong to Roaming Tigress. Story based on Gaston Leroux's "The Phantom of The Opera." Lyrics and lyric segments are © Lord Andrew Lloyd Weber/Really Useful Theater Company/Cameron Mackintosh. 


	6. Notes

**Stranger Than You Dreamt It**   
By Roaming Tigress and Tammy Wraight, whom allowed me use of her character, Faith Conway

**Chapter Five**

Notes

Behind the stage's curtain was McQuack, surrounded by the ballet girls. He was wearing a cloak from the costuming room, and held a piece of rope which he formed in the shape of a Punjab lasso.

"You will never see a face like the opera ghost!" He said in a mysterious tone, sneering at the girls. "I have seen him once, unmasked. He's got the face of a skull, and the skin of parchment paper!" The girls gasped in astonishment, yet became all the more curious as he continued his story.

"Did he hurt you?" One of the girls asked.

"No, I surprised him, and he disappeared," McQuack stated proudly. "You must always be on your guard, or he will catch you with his magical lasso!" He demonstrated his defense against this by placing his hand between his neck and the noose and pulling the rope taunt. With a mixture of impression and horror, the girls applauded.

The shadow of emerging Phantom appeared on the wall. One of the girls let out a shriek of fright and fled from the stage with the others following pursuit, leaving behind a very confused McQuack behind. He had not seen what scared them so.

"My story wasn't that frightening for them, was it?" He asked as Victoria came up the stage staircase. "It was true, though, I did have that encounter!"

"You speak too much of what you know, McQuack. It would be wise of you to hold your tongue." She coldly instructed.

She watched in the corner of her eye as The Phantom -- accompied by Faith, stared intently at the fool of a mallard-pelican hybrid. When he noticed her, she quickly left. Victoria knew all too well what he was capable of doing. The Australian-born ballerina instructor learnt to become wise in the reclusive rooster's ways -- in perhaps the worst way possible.

Eight long years ago, she began trouble sleeping and on the instruction of her doctor, she took a sedative before going to bed. One night, after finding her address on an envelope, the rooster found her residence. He made a near silent break in, and took advantage of her while she slept. Nine months later, Tatiana was the result of that unfortunate rendevous. Victoria told her daughter that her father was killed in an accident, but she knew someday she would have to tell her the truth.

With a dramatic sweep of his cape, The Phantom left with Faith as quickly as he appeared. He hated to be seen, and hence, rarely ventured from the labyrinth. Down there, he found peace in the damp darkness. There was nobody down there to torment him about his deformity, nobody there who stared at the silver mask which covered the right side of his face. Aside from Faith's recent "visit," it was just him and his music and he preferred it that way.

In the office of the managers, various newspapers with such headlines as "Gala night mystery"and "Conway believed kidnaped" were messily strewn across the desk. Wearily, the two ducks picked up two of the newspapers and read through them.

"First Morgana, then Faith," Drake groaned, fervently rubbing his feathered temples. "Damn blast it all . . . What'll be next?"

Fenton remained fairly optimistic, and patted the shoulder of his comrade. He hated seeing him worked up like this. Just as he was about to say something to cheer him up, he found some notes on the desk that he hadn't got around to reading. He picked one of them up, and read it outloud.

"The gala was beyond marvelous! Faith enjoyed a grand success, and took to the role better than Morgana, if I do say so. The chorus was splendid, but the dancing was a lamentable mess. Please see to it that the girls get more practice." Raising an eyebrow, he handed a note over to Drake that was addressed to him.

"Just a brief reminder, Mr. Mallard. My salary has not been paid. Send it care of the ghost by return of post. P.T.O -- it is best that my orders are obeyed. Nobody likes a debtor!"

The two studied the signature of O.G for some time before it dawned on Drake. "Opera ghost!" He exclaimed, jumping off his seat.

"Oh, nonsense!" Fenton scoffed. "Just Orson Ganderfield, playing his usual tricks again. He's just jealous that our opera house's performances are becoming more popular than the ones going on in Duckburg." Before any of them could say more, an enraged Lord Negaduck charged through the doors. While he remained in a bad mood, he was nearly as threatening as The Phantom was in full fury.

"Where is she?" He demanded.

"Morgana?" Fenton asked, raising an eyebrow at the well-dressed mallard. "She is still missing in action, so to speak."

Negaduck snarled in annoyance, rolling his eyes. "I mean Faith! Miss Conway! I demand to know were she is."

"How should we know?" Drake asked with a shrug. "Wasn't she with you last -- " Before he could continue, the imposing mallard shoved a note in front of his face.   
  
"I take it you sent me this note?" Negaduck asked with a scowl. "Do not fear for Miss Conway. The Angel of Music has taken her under his wing. Make absolutely no attempt to see her again."

Just then, Morgana made her reappearance as she charged into the office. She was absolutely furious, and in her hand she held a note.

"Well, look who finally dropped in!" Fenton remarked, elbowing Drake. "Welcome back, miss Morgana Macawber."

"Thank you so much for your kind letter!" She snarled, taking Lord Negaduck aback by her accusation. "I am glad you admire me so." She took no notice of the amiable welcomes from the managers.

"Care to tell me what is going on?" Drake asked him suspiciously, placing his hands on his hips. "He's got shifty eyes, Fenton . . . " He muttered to his associate under his breath, whom agreed with him. "I wouldn't trust his information."   
  
"What are you two ladies whispering about?" Lord Negaduck asked, narrowing his eyes with a smirk. He had caught the last part of their little chit-chat.

Fenton clamped a hand over Drake's bill. "Nothing."

Morgana disdainfully read the letter out loud to them. "Your days of the Opera Populaire are numbered. Faith Conway will be singing on your behalf tonight. If you attempt to take her place, be prepared for a great misfortune." Once again, her anger and accusations were directed at Lord Negaduck who steeled himself as she circled her.

"It's all a ploy to help Faith, isn't it? You have a soft spot for her, and hence want to overthrow me, just to see your girl on the stage!"   
  
Lord Negaduck tried to keep his calm, but Morgana was pushing him over the edge. "I have no idea what is going on, but I would appreciate it if you would stop putting the blame on me, you overbearing wrench!" He said between clenched teeth, poking her hard in the chest. Only his gentlemanly upbringing held him back from giving her a slap in the face.

Morgana gasped in horror at his insult, recoiling back. "How dare you -- "

"Lord Negaduck, Morgana, please!" Fenton said, raising his voice as he grew weary of the arguing. "We'll get nowhere if we keep bickering and putting the blame on the wrong party."

Victoria and Faith walked in through the office's doors, and much to Drake's annoyance, Tatiana had a note with her. _Since we've come here, all I've been hearing about is Faith! Faith this, Faith that. I'm growing tired of the whole affair!_

"Faith has returned," Victoria stated calmly.

Relieved, Lord Negaduck let out a deep sigh. "Were precisely, is she now?"

"I thought it was best that she went home," she replied. "She looked quiet pale when I saw her, she needed rest."

Deeply concerned, Negaduck continued to prod. As she was the most important thing to her, he had to find out.

"May I see her?"

"No, she will see no one!" Tatiana quickly replied. She handed the note over to him, but it was snatched up quickly by Fenton.

"Gentlemen, I have now sent you several notes of the most amiable nature, detailing how my theatre is to be run. You have not followed my exact instructions, but as I am a patient man, I will give you once last chance. Faith has returned to you, and I am anxious her career should progress. In the production of you will therefore cast Mcawber as the Pageboy, and put Miss Conway in the role of Countess."

"And why am I not suitable as the role of Countess?" Morgana bristled, digging her nails into the palms of her hands.

"We know you have a fine voice," Victoria grumbled at Morgana. "However, I want to hear what the rest of the letter says."

The two scowled silently at each other as Fenton kept reading it out. "The role which Miss Conway plays   
calls for charm and appeal. The role of the Pageboy is silent - which makes my casting, in a word -- ideal. I shall watch the performance from my normal seat in Box Five, which will be kept empty for me. Should these commands be ignored, a disaster beyond your imagination will occur. I remain, gentlemen, your most obedient servant, O.G."

Behind the closed office door, lurked The Phantom. He couldn't help but to overhear them successfully persuade Morgana into staying as a performer at "his" opera house. He was amused but not surprised at how badly she reacted to his last letter. His delight was short lived, however, when he heard them change his perfectly thought out cast.

"So, it is to be war between us!" He growled, stalking down the hallway and disappearing into the darkness. "If it is a disaster dey want, it'll be a disaster dey'll be getting!"

Disclaimer: All characters are © Disney, excluding Faith Mallard who is is © Tammy Wraight, and Victoria and Tatiana Volatili, whom belong to Roaming Tigress. Story based on Gaston Leroux's "The Phantom of The Opera." Lyrics and lyric segments are © Lord Andrew Lloyd Weber/Really Useful Theater Company/Cameron Mackintosh. No suing me, plzkthnx.


	7. A Disaster Beyond Imagination

Stranger Than You Dreamt It   
By Roaming Tigress and Tammy Wraight, whom allowed me use of her character, Faith Conway

**Chapter Six**

A Disaster Beyond Imagination

During the overture of Il Muto that is about to begin, the managers and Lord Negaduck have taken their seats. Lord Negaduck, foolishly not falling for the threats of the mysterious "O.G," has decided to taken his seat in Box Five. The other two have decided to stay in a box opposite of him.

Drake, his face paled with fright, couldn't help but to question him. "Do you really think that is wise, sir?"

Lord Negaduck didn't let superstition ruin his night at the opera, especially with Faith being in the cast -- even if her role was silent. He merely waved the warning away, amused by their paranoia. _Hah! Like that is really believable._ _I've heard more frightening campfire stories. I wouldn't doubt that they're just jealous that I'll be getting a better view in my seat than they do, and that I've got my eyes on the prettiest girl around._

"Do you expect me, the Lord, to be sitting in the aisle?" Negaduck arrogantly scoffed, crossing his arms and turning his large bill up into the air.

"Well, of course not!" Fenton exclaimed. "It's just that -- "

"There appears to be no other seats available other than Box Five," Negaduck explained with a shrug. "In any case, it appears that this "O.G" has other affairs to attend to. I see nobody here but myself, and I'm sure if there was some disaster, it would have happened by now."

"He is a fool," Drake muttered under his breath, leaning over to Fenton. "If anything happens tonight, I'll know who to put the blame on."

Fenton nodded, seconding this but remaining cheerful. "Maybe if we're lucky, though, this Phantom fellow will kidnap HIM!"

"What was that?" Negaduck demanded, shutting them up with an intimidating glare. "That's more like it, gentlemen."

The mauve curtain rose to reveal a 18th century saloon with a canopied bed in the center of the stage. The Countess, played by Morgana, and Serafimo, the page boy, played by Faith, is hidden behind the drawn canopy. In the room with them there are two epicene men, one who is a hair dresser, the other a jewlerer being attended by Tatiana. Both of their roles are played by Tuskerninni and Grizlikoff, and there is also an older woman, the countess confidante. As she is having her hair styled, she starts up a lively gossip session about the Countess' relationship with Serafimo.

"You may correct me if I'm wrong, Fenton, but there's nothing like an old opera!" Drake remarked, watching with a twinkle in his eyes.

"Or the old scenery, the old audience . . . " Fenton added.

"And every seat sold!" Drake boasted.

Fenton nodded, unwisely letting his guard down. "It's hardly a disaster beyond your imagination!"

Without warning, The Phantom's dire demand was heard by all. "DID I NOT INSTRUCT THAT BOX FIVE WAS TO BE KEPT EMPTY?" His voice was so loud that his distinctive Italian-American accent could not be heard.

Expectedly, there was great unease from the audience and the performers alike, and Faith was certainly no exception. She felt the chill she normally got whenever The Phantom was around. He had to be close by, she thought.

"It's him, I just know it . . . It's him!"

Annoyed, Morgana hissed at her. "Your part was meant to be silent, you little toad!"

"A toad, madame? Per'aps it is you who are de toad!" He mocked, causing more uneasiness. The production went on regardless of his taunting.

"You didn't believe us, did you?" Drake snidely asked Negaduck, whom looked around with suspicion. "We did warn you . . . "

Negaduck didn't waste his breath as the show resumed, and he was able to shut the two other ducks out of his mind. He knew someone was causing some sort of trouble, but didn't attribute it to this fabled Phantom everyone was so up in arms about.

"Serafimo, away with this pretense! You cannot kiss me in my -- " Quite suddenly, she emitted a loud, toad-like croak that stunned the audience. More shocking to them, however, was the echoing laughter from The Phantom, which went from a quiet chuckle to a mad cackle.

With a rub to her throat, Morgana continued. "Poor fool, he makes me laugh! Hahahah -- " Once again, her line was cut off by the absurd croaking.

"Behold, she is singing to bring down de chandelier!" The Phantom announced, followed by another string of maddened laughter. While everyone kept their attention onto the play, he was perched on top of the crystal-studded light fixture. Clinging onto the chain that was bolted to the ceiling, he swung the chandelier forward with his legs. For a moment he thought he was about to loose his footing and fall, but quickly regained his footing.

"I-I can't go on!" Morgana sobbed, horribly embarrassed and frightened by the unexpected incident. A concerned Grizlikoff quickly ushered her off the stage.

As the audience starts to go back into panic, Drake Mallard raises his voice above them, and he makes his way down to the stage.

"Ladies and gentleman, tonight's performance will continue in approximately ten minute's time, when the role of the Countess will be understudied by the fine Miss Faith Conway." He noticed that the chandelier was rocking perilously, but the moment he raised his head to see what was the cause of it, The Phantom disappeared.

"In the meantime, ladies and gentlemen," Fenton improvised from the box. "We shall be give you the ballet from Act Three from tonight's opera." He gestured to the conductor to start the lively accompying music, and sat back in his chair.

As the ballet started their act, upstage behind the scenery drop, The Phantom lurked. Tatiana had caught a glimpsed his ominous shadows, causing her to fall out of step now and then. For once, she wasn't critiqued by her mother and did her best to keep up with the other girls. _ He's there, The Phantom of The Opera . . ._

With the sweep of the retreating rooster's cape, the scenery drop fell onto the stage. Not a moment too soon, the lynched corpse of McQuack also came crashing down. Chaos ensured, and Lord Negaduck rushed onto the stage to lead away the frightened Faith. On his way toward her, he was nearly run over by the stampeding mass of theatregoers.

"Faith, come with me! We'll get the carriage and take you -- " He instructed, rushing down the stage steps that went out to the back stage exit.

"No, to the roof, we'll be safe there!" Faith held back, trying to make him follow her towards a set of stairs that went upstairs.

With a nod, Negaduck took her suggestion and rushed off after her as the managers did their best to calm the panicked patrons. Their attempts failed, and policemen came up on the stage to investigate the murder.

"Ladies and gentlemen, please remain in your seats. Do not panic! It was an accident! Simply an accident!"

If only it were!

Disclaimer: All characters are © Disney, excluding Faith Mallard who is is © Tammy Wraight, and Victoria and Tatiana Volatili, whom belong to Roaming Tigress. Story based on Gaston Leroux's "The Phantom of The Opera." Lyrics and lyric segments are © Lord Andrew Lloyd Weber/Really Useful Theater Company/Cameron Mackintosh. No suing me, plzkthnx, that'd be embarassing.


	8. I Gave Her My Music

Stranger Than You Dreamt It   
By Roaming Tigress and Tammy Wraight, whom allowed me use of her character, Faith Conway 

**Chapter Seven**

I Gave You My Music

Lord Negaduck couldn't comprehend that Faith chose the opera house's rooftop -- of all places -- to seek safety. _Whatever was wrong with my plan? It seemed logical to me for her and I get a stage coach back to my place. There, I'll be able to speak to and spend time with Faith and not having to be interrupted by "Phantoms" or annoying managers, or pandemonium-causing corpses inconveniently dropping onto the stage._

"May I ask . . . Why have you brought me up here?" He asked, worriedly watching her pace about fretfully in front of an enormous white marble angel statuette that was in the center of the rooftop.

"Are you feeling all right?"

"His will find me . . . He will kill me . . . " Faith kept pacing, seemingly oblivious his question. "Don't take me back there!" She begged, suddenly giving him a tight embrace.

"What happened to night was just the result of those foolish stage hands messing about," Negaduck reassured, stroking her back as he returned the hug. "We have to return, Faith, or they'll think you've gone missing again."

"It wasn't an accident!" She exclaimed, holding on tighter to him. "Oh, Negaduck, I'm scared . . . I'm so scared . . . I can't escape from him!"

Negaduck stroked her hair affectionately, holding her close up against him. "The Phantom is just a fable, nothing more."

"He'll kill again!" Faith exclaimed with a slight choke to her voice. "You have to believe me. I know my imagination runs a bit wild from time to time, but I was in his lair."

_ How can I make him believe me? I can't very well bring him down to The Phantom's underground universe and say "Negaduck, this is The Angel of Music -- Phantom, this is The Angel of Music" and then proceed to make a cup of tea._

"It was just a vivid dream," Lord Negaduck reassured once more as he tucked a finger under her chin. "Your imagination was one of the things that I was first attracted to, you know. I remember once you refused to go on a picnic in the woods because you thought there was a hungry goblin that wanted to get you. You even pointed this monster out, and it turned to be nothing more than an overgrown opossum."

Faith raised an eyebrow, chuckling a little at the incident. "I was ten at the time, Negaduck. I also had just came to St. Canard and I was unfamiliar with the local wildlife. I've long since outgrown those silly fears." It appeared that she was relaxing somewhat, and she did, finding comfort in the mallard's presence.

Hooking an arm around her waist, Negaduck tried to gently guide her back inside -- but she wouldn't budge. Seeing the sudden haunted look on Faith's face, he began to wonder if there really was someone that had been giving her trouble. Not necessarily this Phantom everyone was talking about, just some undesirable whom he felt he needed to taken care of -- for her sake. St. Canard was full of undesirables, and he didn't put it past him for a street thug to start stalking her.

He didn't pressure her into going with him, and let out a low growl. "You've said you've been taken to his 'lair'?"

Faith nodded slowly, loosening her embrace to make Negaduck more comfortable. "I cannot tell you where he lived."

"Why not?" Negaduck asked with a little disappointment to his voice. "I want to find this individual and make him suffer -- "

Gripping hold of his arm, Faith shook her head. "It was a vow that we made when he started teaching me. I wasn't to tell anyone where The Angel of Music resided."

_There she goes, going on about The Phantom again. How can I get her to believe that this opera ghost doesn't exist, that it's all in her head?_

"Well, can you at least tell me what it was like being there?" Negaduck expected her to tell him about some wharf warehouse, or an abandoned factory of sorts.

The memory of being in the labyrinth was all too fresh in Faith's mind. "It's a world of unending darkness, strange beauty, and the most exquisite music I've ever heard. There was a lake -- an underground lake, and a pipe organ . . . "

The location was too vague, too imaginative for Negaduck to take too seriously, but he remained patient in his prodding. Perhaps if he got in touch with another member of the opera house, he would get at least a clue of where Faith's tormentor hid. Perhaps her details were sketchy and imaginative to protect him for some reason or another.

"Can you tell me what he looked like?" Even better was to know what this person looked like.

Faith's stomach sank when he asked this. "How could I ever forget what he looked like? He's a rooster, not bad looking, I might add. A massive, well-dressed rooster."

Behind the statuette was The Phantom, listening in on every word the two spoke. Nobody had ever referred to the rooster as looking anything but handsome before, and hearing those two words made his heart grow fonder for Faith. At last, he thought, he had found someone who could overlook his ugliness and would take away his loneliness.

" . . . Until I saw his face, without the mask." Faith continued with a gulp, shuddering at the memory. "It was so disfigured, so . . . Utterly and frightfully hideous."

The Phantom was stung by this comment, but the worse hurt had yet to come. _I knew I shouldn't ve have kept my hopes up . . . Why would such a pretty girl find a thing like me attractive?_

"Well, he sure sound like a handsome gentleman . . . " Negaduck muttered sarcastically under his breath.

"His temper was extraordinary, let's not forget about that!" Faith remarked, examining her bruised wrist and upper arm.

"Worse than mine, even?" The mallard asked, smiling smugly. "That has got to be impossible!"

"Oh, but it is!" Faith exclaimed.

"He literally dragged me here and there, all because I was too scared to come down with him. He was absolutely furious when I took the mask away, and slapped me so hard he knocked me onto the ground. I forgave him for it, though, it was so stupid of me to even try doing such a thing. I just figured his mask was part of his wardrobe. If I had any idea that he was hiding a deformity underneath, I would've left it on."

Perhaps she was telling some truth, Negaduck thought. There was indeed a bruise on her cheek, but she shrugged it off as she continued to tell him about the mysterious masked musician. He became all the more determined to track down this troublemaker, now that it was known that he did hurt her, provoked or otherwise.

"His voice, however, was wondrous beyond words!" Faith continued with a dreamy smile. "My soul soared when I heard it that night -- that night of the music, and it made me believe there really was beauty in the beast."

"Are you quite finished?" Negaduck asked, closing his coat shut and eager to spend time alone with Faith in a not-so-drafty location.

"His eyes . . . " Faith continued, cupping the mallard's bills in her petite hands. "I've never seen eyes like The Angel of Music's before. When they threatened, they threatened, but when they weren't, there was a haunted sadness in them. When I took away that mask, I swore I saw tears as he begged me to give it back. I cannot imagine the loneliness that poor creature must feel. He scares me so, but I cannot help but to pity him."

"Faith, shhhh . . . " Negaduck murmured comfortingly as he looked into her eyes. "Lets end this talk of darkness. I'm here, and I'll let no harm come to you. Let me guide and guard you from your fright and say you love me."

Indeed they had only become re-familiar with one another recently, and not expecting such a wonderful shock such as this, Faith blushed a deep red. With tears of happiness, she hugged him tightly.

"Oh, you know I do!"

Clutching a hand over his broken heart, The Phantom watched in despair as Faith and Negaduck embraced and kissed below him. He made no effort to stop the steady flow of tears that streamed down his face; it was bad enough Faith said he was hideous, true as it was, but it was much more painful to hear what came after it. He could perhaps deal with being called ugly and insulted with every name in the book, but it was another that his first love had to be one that was unrequited of nature.

_ How could Faith do dis to me, to cut me so deeply as she did?_ _I gave her my music, made her song take wing, and now, look how she's repaid me! She betrayed me, falling for dat fop! All he has ever done was fetch some lousy scarf out of de water. I wished he drowned doing so._

_ God, I love Faith so._

_ She's too good for dat Negaduck. Never mind Lord of St. Canard, he is de lord of de fools as far as I'm concerned! So pompous, so full of himself, and his denying of my existence gives proof to his idiocy._ _I guess Faith likes 'im because he's 'andsome, and "normal" and 'as an important sounding title _ _She needs someone smart, someone who appreciates and shares her talent and wants to improvise upon it - somebody like me._

As Faith and the dashing drake returned back inside, The Phantom's pain and sorrow transformed into vengeful anger. Wrapping the cape around him, he disappeared.

Disclaimer: All characters are © Disney, excluding Faith Mallard who is is © Tammy Wraight, and Victoria and Tatiana Volatili, whom belong to Roaming Tigress. Story based on Gaston Leroux's "The Phantom of The Opera." Lyrics and lyric segments are © Lord Andrew Lloyd Weber/Really Useful Theater Company/Cameron Mackintosh. No suing me, plzkthnx, that'd be embarassing.


	9. Apologies and The Death of A Diva

Stranger Than You Dreamt It  
By Roaming Tigress and Tammy Wraight, whom allowed me use of her character, Faith Conway

**Chapter Eight**

Apologies and The Death of A Diva

  
  
On the stage of the St. Canard Opera House, the standing ovations for "Il Muto" were underway. The show was indeed another success, and the wild applause from the public proved this. Yet, where there was joy, dark shadows lurked overhead.

Watching the situation was the feared Phantom. He kept his eyes on the bowing performers from atop the crystal chandelier with an expression of both hate and desire -- hate for the world, desire for what he could not have. The rooster would kill to put Faith in the spotlight, for he loved her that much. He was tired of Faith having her same roles and being nothing more than a mere understudy, and The Phantom was going to do something about it.

The chandelier was so massive that anyone underneath it could not see The Phantom in spite of his massive statue. As he heard the audience starting to get up and leave, he took a small saw out from under his arm and began sawing away at the chain. The light fixture began to sway with his weight, and the lights began to flicker, but nobody paid attention, until it was too late.

"I 'ope you fine people don't mind me dropping in!" The Phantom gleefully shouted, clutching onto the chain as the chandelier suddenly came crashing down on top of the unsuspecting audience. As the public panicked, he quickly wrapped his cape around himself and disappeared. He had done his deed and saw no reason to stick around.

In total, some eighty-five people were killed as a result of the rooster's rage. Those few who didn't die or weren't injured as a result the crashing chandelier were done away with in the stampede that followed. Blind with fear, the only thing that was on the mind of the theatergoers was to get out of the Opera House, and now. Nobody in their right mind wasn't going to stick around.

One of those unfortunates was Morgana Macawber, the favorite of the Opera House. As the crowd cleared away, Faith saw her trampled, bloodied form laying on the floor. Part of the chandelier had crashed down on her head, killing her instantly. In spite of the fact she found her to be overbearing, the diva's death was a great shock to her nonetheless, just as it was to the other members of the opera house, and whomever admired her as a spectator.

It didn't take Faith long to figure out who the culprit was behind the killing, and she backed away slowly until she was back stage. She watched as the devastated managers came up to her body and draped a white sheet over Mcawber as they talked to a police officer. She felt a certain sadness for her loss; there were times the two did get along.

"Faith, are you alright?" Negaduck asked, putting a hand on one of Faith's finely sculpted shoulders when he caught up to her.

"I . . . I don't know . . . " Faith whispered back, putting a hand on top of his as she turned around. "Everything happened too fast, too soon. I warned you that he'd do something!"

The mallard felt a little guilty for not believing her on top of the roof, and broke her eye contact. "I'd like to apologize . . ."

Negaduck had never felt bad for disbelieving somebody, until now. He was starting to believe Faith about this Angel of Music that she talked about so often. Chandeliers just don't down on top of people whenever they feel like it, nor do they laugh maniacally. That laugh matched the voice he heard from her room.

"Apologize? For what?" Faith asked, raising an eyebrow. "If it's about you not taking me seriously, there's really no need to. I can understand how everything would sound like a tall tale. I have a bad habit of describing everything as such. Some things from childhood, they just never change."

"I've noticed," Negaduck replied with a smirk, escorting her to her dressing room. "I wouldn't have you any other way."

"Nor would I have you any other way!" Faith winked.

Once inside the dressing room, she warily eyed the mirror. The turned-over dressing table and its contents had since been cleared up, but she still couldn't put herself to go near it. She sat at the edge of the cot with her knees up against her chest.

"Thanks . . . For bringing me here," Faith said with a slight smile, giving Negaduck's hand an affectionate squeeze.

"It's been such a horrid night."

"Indeed it has been . . . " Negaduck replied, nuzzling her with his bill. "My offer of taking you to my place is still open. I know you've got your place in town, but if you want to be somewhere more secluded -- "

"Oh, I'd love to take that offer!" Faith replied with reluctancy. "The only problem is . . . The Angel of Music. He could follow us, and if he knew that I loved you, I'd hate to see what would happen." It pained her to say this, for she desperately wanted private time with Negaduck just as much as he wanted one on one time with her.

"You think I'm afraid of some pitiful recluse?" Negaduck asked with a wry wink. "I think not. Besides, if he's as ugly as you say he is, I doubt he'd come out of hiding."

Faith clutched his arm, shaking her head. "Angel of Music's determined. Coming out of hiding is no problem with him. He can appear and reappear at whim. I don't want what's happened to McQuack and Morgana to happen to you."

"First he's a phantom of a tutor who happens to have an incredible voice, and now he's a murderous magician?" Negaduck asked, shrugging when she nodded. "This Phantom of The Opera sounds more talented than Mr. Houndini himself!"

Faith let out a yawn when her lack of rest was catching up to her. "I'm probably being paranoid, really. My lack of sleep's not helping."

"Well, I mustn't keep you up for much longer then!" Negaduck said suavely, giving her a kiss on the forehead. Just before he went out the door, he stopped to look back at her as she settled herself in bed, too tired to change into her nightwear.

"Goodnight, Little Lotte."

"Goodnight, Negaduck . . . " Faith smiled in a dreamy manner, resting her head into her pillow after blowing out her bedside lamp.

From the mirror, silver eyes behind the mask of metal stared at Faith as she tossed and turned in her bed before finally succumbing to slumber. In The Phantom's eyes, she was just as beautiful asleep as she was awake. Perhaps Faith was even more attractive as she laid there. She seemed more delicate, more like the angel he looked to her as.  
__

_ What would I give to hold her in my arms, without her being in a trance, without her being scared of me? What would I give to have Negaduck's attractiveness, and to be in his spot?_

The Phantom wanted to come out from behind the mirror and once more caress that silky, thick hair of hers, but a feeling that he hadn't had since childhood -- timidity -- held him back. He fought so hard against this feeling. He couldn't understand that while he had no trouble being responsible for the deaths of the people he had caused that night, he just couldn't out and touch a single strand of hair like he did in his lair.

Tentatively, The Phantom reached out and slowly shoved the dressing table aside. He was extra careful to not cause anything to drop, and once this was done he took hold of his cape and walked through the mirror. Once he was out, the rooster crept to the door, locked it, and quietly made his way to Faith's bed. He looked down at her with a smile, and for the first time in his life there was a certain boyish twinkle in his eyes.

There was no response from the sleeping she-duck as he stroked her hair. He crouched down to her level and rested his head against the bed.

"Faith?" The Phantom whispered, giving her an affectionate nudge of his beak.

When his shyness subsided enough, that nudge graduated into a nuzzle. He felt incredibly awkward in his inexperience. Having not previously had any affection shown toward him or having the opportunity to be affectionate, The Phantom had to mimic Faith's and Negaduck's cozy interactions.

He asked again, clearing his throat. "Faith?"

"Hrm?" She murmured in her sleep, not understanding who called her name.

"I've killed for you . . . " He said, his voice a little louder and more confident now. "I became weary of you being treated as second class and was forced to take de matter into my own 'ands. With de death of Morgana, you will be in de spotlight." The Phantom behaved in a manner that made it seem as if he was afraid to touch her, in case she would shatter in pieces. This was evident as he gingerly placed an arm over her back.

Faith turned over in her sleep, grumbling something he didn't quite understand. He had assumed that she was asking him about what he was telling her about, and decided to elaborate a little.

"And I did it, because I -- "

Before The Phantom could finish his sentence, Faith snapped her eyes open and gave him the hardest hit to his face that she could ever give someone. Without knowing his intentions, the first thing that came to her mind was that he was going to sleep with her against her will. She knew of what he had done to Victoria, and wasn't going to let the same thing happen to her.

Having not expected such a defensive reaction on her part, The Phantom veered back like a spooked horse. He crashed back into the dressing table, knocking over the vases which contained the roses that Negaduck gave to Faith.

"I-I ultimately did it because . . . I love you . . . " He stammered. "I . . . I also came here to apologize . . . For hitting you, and treating you like I did."

For once, Faith wasn't frightened of him -- she was angry beyond angry. She was furious, so much so that she wanted to hit him a thousand times more. _I don't want him to crawl back to me to tell me that he loves me. I already have the man of my dreams. I just want him to improve my singing and leave me be!_

"You wanted to molest me, didn't you?" She demanded, picking up a hairbrush and throwing it at his head. When it hit him, the only response she got from him was a grunt and a blank expression.

"Well, don't just stand there looking stupid. Answer me!"

"No, I didn't . . . " The Phantom replied, rubbing the spot that the ivory-handed brush made contact with.

"Well, why else would you come into my room and touch me while I was asleep?" She asked, staring up at him fearlessly after she backed him up into a corner. She couldn't help but to notice his change of attitude from the last time she met up with him.

"I . . . I just wanted to be wit' you," The Phantom truthfully answered, flinching slightly as he anticipated her reaction to be a negative one again. "Wit'out 'aving to drag you down to my place, wit'out any intention of doing anyt'ing sexual." He expected another brush to be thrown at his head, but to his relief, she remained calm, albeit skeptical.

"Oh, really?" She challenged, putting a hand on her hip.

The Phantom nodded, playing about fretfully with the corner of his cape. "Yes. It was wrong for me touch you. It's just dat I saw you down wit' Negaduck on de roof and heard what you two said -- " He stopped, not wanting to get himself more worked up than he already was.

Rolling her eyes, Faith crossed her arms with a little huff. "Well, you should not have been eavesdropping!"

When her anger finally passed, Faith could see that the tables had turned. The Phantom was the one who was the one who was afraid, the one doing the apologizing, and she was the demanding one who had the upper hand on things. Behind her veil of confidence, Faith was deeply concerned about Negaduck now that the rooster knew about his love for her.

"What is going on in there, Faith, if you don't mind me asking?" Victoria called out from through the door, having been alerted to the sound of something crashing.

"Just fell off the bed and broke a vase!" Faith shouted back, watching The Phantom in the corner of her eyes as he gathered up the red roses that laid strewn across the floor.   
__

_ He seems so genuinely sorry for the way he treated me. If I forgive him, how can I be sure he won't hurt me again? How can I be sure this isn't just some game he's playing with me, like he's done with the managers? _Faith heaved a heavy sigh and took the bouquet that The Phantom so gentlemanly handed to her.  
__

_ Looks like the big bad Phantom's a bit of a softy. Well, when he's going around murdering annoying but otherwise innocent people and making dire threats when he doesn't get his way. I suppose though, being cooped up in that dark place for goodness how long would make one unpredictable like that. For that, I really cannot trust him._

"I best be off now," The Phantom said with a polite nod as he sidestepped away. "I've overstayed my welcome, and I've got to start work on that new production of mine . . . " Just as he turned to make his way through the mirror, he felt a firm tug to his cape.

"I'll forgive you this time," Faith said, softly resting a hand on his back. "I can't say I blame you for hitting me when you did, so don't feel too terrible about it. I would hve done the same if I were in your position. If anyone needs to apologize, my maestro, it should be me." It was a tough decision for her to make.

The Phantom shook his head. "You were just curious, Faith." With that, he made his exit through the mirror.

Disclaimer: All characters are © Disney, excluding Faith Mallard who is is © Tammy Wraight, and Victoria and Tatiana Volatili, whom belong to Roaming Tigress. Story based on Gaston Leroux's "The Phantom of The Opera." Lyrics and lyric segments are © Lord Andrew Lloyd Weber/Really Useful Theater Company/Cameron Mackintosh. No suing me, plzkthnx, that'd be embarrassing.


	10. For The Love of Faith

Stranger Than You Dreamt It  
By Roaming Tigress and Tammy Wraight, whom allowed me use of her character, Faith Conway

**Chapter Nine**

For The Love of Faith

A month and a half had gone by since the death of Morgana Mcawber. Nonetheless, after her funeral, business went on as usual at the St. Canard Opera House. The chandelier incident was dismissed as an accident, and the patrons returned. There were no more deaths, no more threatening shadows, and the managers didn't receive a single note from "O.G."

Things seemed a bit too normal for Victoria. She believed that it wasn't a question as to when The Phantom would strike terror on the Opera House again, but when.

Since Faith's unexpected visit from The Phantom of The Opera, she had not seen him since. From that encounter alone, however, she had not been 'right'. Her stress level was heightened, causing sleep depravation. She couldn't help but to think that the rooster would come out of hiding and into her room the moment her eyes were shut. The fact that she was to have another singing lesson with the recluse at the end of the week added to her anxiety.

Faith wasn't the only one having a difficult time.

Down in the labyrinth, The Phantom was so much into his new manuscript that he had been losing weight to the point of near emaciation. His imposing statue had diminished, and he suffered from many a headache due to the lack of a proper diet. The Phantom didn't care, though, for he had become a slave of his passion of music -- all for the love of Faith.

While Faith was out of her room and the opera house, The Phantom had left a note to remind her of the upcoming training session. Had he known that she had gone out for dinner with Lord Negaduck, Morgana wouldn't be the only one that would be six feet under. A chorus girl caught a glimpse of him, but before she could even shriek in fright, he disappeared as mysteriously as he came.

_ She has got to love me after this . . . I've got her as the main lead. I don't want her pity, only her love, her music . . . Only her. _He deluded himself into believing when he was done the script, Faith was going to spend the days with him and forget all about "that" drake.

An elegant Siamese cat had wandered out from a darkened corner of her owner's lair and sat on her haunches, licking a paw. This was Ayesha, who came and go as she chose. After she had thoroughly groomed herself, she came trotting up to The Phantom who was seated in front of the organ and affectionately intertwined between his skeletally thin legs.

"Oh, Ayesha, there you are . . . " The Phantom said somewhat distantly, taking a brief break from his work to pick the cat up and place her on his lap. He stroked a bony hand over the feline's lithe form, and just like his music, the cat's sound of comfort had lulled him into relaxation.

When the cat leapt off his lap, The Phantom went back to working on his manuscript. "Thirty more pages, and I'll be done!"

Just like Faith, the rooster was in dire need of more sleep -- and it showed. His eyes were sore from working on the script for nine hours straight, but he couldn't stop working. The Phantom worked on that new production as if there was some sort of deadline to meet, and if that deadline wasn't met, something horrible would happen.

While the ugly face of stress had looked down on Faith and The Phantom, the same could not have been said for Lord Negaduck. He didn't invite Faith to the Twenty-Seven restaurant just to have an expensive meal and a moment to mingle with other members of the upper crust society. He had something much more important and life changing in mind.

"Well, look who's here, and not a second late!" Negaduck coolly remarked, watching as Faith, dressed in a simple yet elegant red dress, walked through the door.

"Well, I like to be punctual," Faith answered, sneering at a man who crooned at her. "I see no reason why I should keep a good man such as yourself waiting." She added with a playful wink, pinching Negaduck's feathered cheek.

Just before the drake took his seat, he went down on his left knee and took her hand. "Faith Conway, will you marry me?" He asked, inwardly hoping that he didn't sound too abrupt. Negaduck felt so sure of himself until now, much more than he imagined.

The Lord had thought of proposing to her on the opera house's roof, but the timing for it just didn't seem right. It was just as well, for Negaduck would've probably fallen victim to The Phantom's Punjab lasso right the moment he returned inside.

Except for Faith, everyone seemed so dull around Negaduck. She might have a pretty face and decent talent, but those were the only staples of the reasons that he loved her. He admired her personality, her uniqueness and manner in how she carried herself. She had just the right blend of energy and intelligence, and her eccentric ways set her apart from everyone else that he had ever come to have known.

Being understandably shocked, Faith's reaction to the proposal was delayed. She was slightly hesitant as she thought of The Phantom for a moment, and how terribly he'd react if he found out about it. Nonetheless, Faith wasn't going to let fear of what might or might not happen get in her way. As far as she was concerned, this was the best night she had ever lived.

"Yes . . . Of course I will!" Faith finally replied, overwhelmed by what seemed to be something that would only have happened to her in a dream.

"Did you think that I was going to refuse?" She taunted, sliding over to elbow Negaduck lightly after taking her seat.

"You, refuse a man like me?" Negaduck answered with a scoff, appearing arrogant to others but charming in the eyes of his lady.

"Not in your life, Faith!" He exclaimed, clanking his wine glass against hers.

Disclaimer: All characters are © Disney, excluding Faith Mallard who is is © Tammy Wraight, and Victoria and Tatiana Volatili, whom belong to Roaming Tigress. Story based on Gaston Leroux's "The Phantom of The Opera." Lyrics and lyric segments are © Lord Andrew Lloyd Weber/Really Useful Theater Company/Cameron Mackintosh. Ayesha belongs to Susan Kay, who had wrote the novel, _The Phantom_. No suing me!


	11. The Red Death

Stranger Than You Dreamt It  
By Roaming Tigress and Tammy Wraight, whom allowed me use of her character, Faith Conway

**Chapter Ten**

The Red Death

On the eve of a New Year, preparations were underway in the for a masquerade ball and the celebration of a new chandelier. While stage hands made last minute preparations, the others mingled at the bottom of the foyer's grand, sweeping staircase. Hidden behind paper masks, they were dressed in various costumes, with Faith dressed as a cat and Victoria as a wolf. Other cast members were dressed as peacocks, a lion, highwaymen, knights and a clown.

Approaching one another with caution were Fenton and Drake, both dressed as skeletons. They peered at one another through their paper mask skulls, as if not recognizing each other.

"Fenton?"

"Drake?"

"What a fine night, is it not?" Drake bragged, picking up a glass of wine that was offered to him from a highwayman-disguised Grizlikof.

Fenton nodded, also taking a glass of wine fro the bear and clanking his glass against his associate's. "It is indeed! May the new year be prosperous!"

The memories of The Phantom's escapades seemed to have faded in almost everyone's mind -- except Faith's. She wanted so desperately to start anew, to forget that masked recluse, but she couldn't. Faith reminded herself that she was still his prisoner of music and she kept her engagement ring on a silver necklace -- for Negaduck's sake.

"Now, what do we have to hide?" Negaduck asked, winding the necklace around a finger. "Surely you're not afraid of losing your ring?"

The she-duck turned to him with a coy smile, delighting in seeing him dressed as an executioner when he lifted his hood up away from his face.

"No, of -- well, yes. You know how clumsy I am!" Faith laughed, blushing under her mask as she felt Negaduck's hand rest on her hip.

"May? June?" He asked in a low voice, in regards for the date of the wedding. "Or what about August, on a warm, dark night?"

Faith let her apprehension slip, and like a shark to the smell of blood, Negaduck picked right up on it. "I . . . I don't know . . . " She broke eye contact with Negaduck and idly fiddled with the edge of her sleeve.

"What are you afraid of?" He asked quietly, leading her away from the rest of the crowd to speak to her in relative privacy.

"It's an engagement, not a criminal act."

"Lets not argue about it . . . " Faith shook her head, moving aside as the ballerina girls, disguised as exotic birds from a faraway rainforest, moved on by with effortless grace. They sure have improved, Faith thought as others joined them in their dance. She politely refused when a gentleman offered to dance with her, wanting to spend a little time with Negaduck before she planned on joining in on the party.

"Is your head up in the clouds again?" Negaduck asked, noticing her lack of attention and faraway expression.

"It's not that, really," Faith explained, sitting down on the bottom step of the staircase. "It's just that . . . Well, I'm just waiting for when the time is right. Everyone has their weddings in the spring and summer. I was thinking that sometime in autumn would be nice. I -- " She would have continued, if it wasn't for a comment made by a passing Drake.

"It's a shame that Phantom fellow isn't here . . . "

Six months had past since Faith's engagement and the after-dinner trip down to the Phantom's lair. She vividly remembered seeing his pitifully thin form hunched over the organ, the threat in his silvery eyes replaced with haunt -- and the dark humor he used in reference to the death of Morgana. He was doing so much for Faith in the shape he was in and she couldn't help but to feel touched by it. Yet, she couldn't forget what he had done. She could have very well been in McQuack's or Morgana's spot, if he so wanted to or if she did something that was even slightly against his wishes. _Why must he be so volatile? I want to trust him, but I cannot . . ._

Feeling uncomfortable at that very thought, Faith stood up to leave. "I'll . . . I've got to go."

"Why? You've only just got here!" Negaduck explained, turning around as he noticed a large shadow appear from behind him.

With a small gasp, she looked up. "I know, but . . . "

The shadow belonged to The Phantom, disguised as The Red Death. He was dressed in scarlet, with a large feathered hat on top of a realistically detailed metal mask of a lion's skull. Trailing behind him was a blood red velvet cape, and under his arm was the manuscript he had worked on for long hours of the night. Stiffendedly, he descended from the staircase and those who were dancing stopped to stare at the bizarrely dressed figure. He ignored these stares, having expected them.

"Crackshell, Mallard!" The costumed rooster barked, tossing the manuscript in the direction of the managers. It struck Drake in the head, and he quietly laughed at his misfortune.

"I bring you Don Juan Triumphant, and trust that you will get the casting right dis time . . . " He threatened, slowly looking over at Faith who stood back in awed silence.

"You just had to mention his name, didn't you?" Fenton said in a whiny, annoyed tone as the other manager rubbed his head and picked up the script.

"Be quiet!" Drake hissed, slapping him upside.

"Wouldn't want to repeat what has been done now, would we?" He laughed, tripping Drake and placing a foot down on his back. The rooster looked down at him with a hidden, cruel grin before he set his eyes back on Faith.

Spotting the necklace, The Phantom came over and suddenly grabbed it. "Your chains are still mine, you will sing for ME!"

After ripping it from her neck, he vanished before the shocked masquerade ball attendants.

Disclaimer: All characters are © Disney, excluding Faith Mallard who is is © Tammy Wraight, and Victoria and Tatiana Volatili, whom belong to Roaming Tigress. Story based on Gaston Leroux's "The Phantom of The Opera." Lyrics and lyric segments are © Lord Andrew Lloyd Weber/Really Useful Theater Company/Cameron Mackintosh. Ayesha belongs to Susan Kay, who had wrote the novel, _The Phantom_. No suing me!


	12. Too Many Accidents

Stranger Than You Dreamt It

By Roaming Tigress and Tammy Wraight, whom allowed me use of her character, Faith Conway

**Chapter Eleven**

Too Many Accidents

For Faith, The Phantom's visit wasn't unexpected. She knew he would show himself sooner or later, and before long she got over the shock from him suddenly tearing the necklace from her. She rubbed the spot from were it was torn away and casually strolled out away from a crowd that was forming around her. It wasn't that she was totally anti-social, but crowds, especially loud, boisterous ones as this one was becoming, just wasn't Faith's thing. She felt trapped in them, and quick to lash out should someone make the mistake of literally bumping into her.

"I believe this is yours, madame?" Lord Negaduck said, suavely handing her the engagement ring that lay a few inches from her feet. "It seems to me you should keep that thing under lock and key. It seems to be there's a few lowlife's at this party." He added quietly, scanning the crowds as he referred to the Red Death figured visitor. He didn't know that it was his arch rival, just another partygoer who felt it was necessary for some reason or another to snatch Faith's necklace from her.

Faith, who knew better than Negaduck, took the ring and nonchalantly placed it in a pocket inside her costume. "You're too cute, you know that?" She teased.

"You honestly have no idea how much I hate that word . . . " Negaduck muttered under his breath, shuddering at the very mention of that sappy word. "Don't you think 'charming' and 'wealthy' are more suitable? Cute is a word you'd use on something like a . . . Rabbit." He insisted, sneering with the displeasure of hearing himself say the name of that often too-cute species of animal.

"I'll keep your distaste of that word in my mind." Faith laughed. "I remember you were fond of rabbiting, and how you once caught yourself in one of your rabbit traps."

"I love you, Faith, but please don't remind me of that incident . . ." The drake said quietly under his breath, hoping that the others hadn't overheard her. "On a much more pleasing subject, would you care for me to escort you to your room?" He offered suavely, ushering her away from the rest of the party. "We haven't spent much one-on-one time lately, have we? Between your job, those useless managers, and that . . . .Tutor of yours. Whenever I do manage to spend time with you, that time is always cut short by one thing or another." Negaduck added, with a slightly irritated tone in reference to the three hindrances.

"Indeed . . . " Faith answered somewhat distantly, forcing a smile to show her beau that there wasn't anything troubling her. "Lets forget about all that rubbish now. It's just you that I have on my mind."

With her interest with Negaduck thoroughly rekindled, it was time for her to be less coy -- and more intimate. She was hoping that Negaduck was in the mood to do more than just speak to her. Bringing back the old days was all well and good, but she wanted to move ahead of that. She had outgrown her childhood crush, and consequently, her feelings for the handsome lord had developed into something much more stronger. Saying that she loved him now was different from when she said the same in her childhood.

Under the careful watch of The Phantom of The Opera, they made love that night. He spied on them from behind the mirror as their bodies intertwined, and he was jealous -- insanely jealous. In the prime of his life, he had never known what sex was like. The rooster could only imagine it being as sensuous as Faith and Negaduck were making it look like. After all, who would ever want to sleep with someone with a face like he has? No one in their right mind, he thought, even without candlelight. His touch was too cold, he was too ridiculously inexperienced, he'd feel awkward. Ultimately, The Phantom would be ashamed of letting down whomever was sharing the bed with him.  
_  
You wish you were an optimistic, don't you, old boy? You like to dream about what everyone else has, to put yourself in their shoes and to say and think about things, just to make yourself feel better. Wake up to de real world, Valentino. You have your music, you have her, but just not the way you want to have her. You can never have her as a wife, accept it. _

Repulsed, The Phantom turned his back, ready to return to his dark sanctuary. At the last minute, thought he kept watching the pair until they were quite done. He carefully came out through the mirror with a single red rose in his hand. After bending down to give Faith a light kiss on the cheek, he laid it and a note on the dressing table beside her as he left the dressing room for good that night.

"Sleep well, my beauty."

Faith didn't stir at the sensation of that cold, metal-encased beak brushing up against her cheek. She simply sighed and clutched tighter onto Negaduck's arm, calling his name gently as she began to dream. She dreamed that it was a pleasantly warm spring evening, in a boat that drifted through an avenue of willow trees dotting alongside a riverbank. Faith was pregnant and carefree in this dream; there was no phantom to haunt her. The only individual who was with her was Negaduck, and she cold almost smell the freshness that was in the air, and could almost feel the gentle rocking of the boat as it turned around the corner of the river. In the background, just over a hill, was a grand old mansion, gothic in style.

Alas, it was only a dream. By next morning, she had found that Negaduck was gone from the dressing room. She had seen the rose on her bedside table, and picked it up with the note it came from.

_Dear Faith,_

_I dread going out into the public as much as a fish enjoys being out of the water, but when I saw this rose, I thought of you. _

_O.G_

For a moment, her heart stopped. Jumping ahead of herself, her imagination got the better of her and she assumed that The Phantom took him hostage. Thankfully, before she got carried away with herself, Faith's fears were soon put to rest when she found another note at the side of the bed. This time, it was written by her fiancé.

_Faith,_

_You need not to worry about leaving you this morning. I shall return later this day -- meet me at the town square for luncheon. _

-L.N

It was a sweet enough gesture on The Phantom's behalf, she thought, and placed the rose in a vase of water. _He tries so hard to win me over, I wish I could just do something reasonable in return for all of what he has done for me already. I wouldn't be the success that I am today if it weren't for his schooling. _She shook her head, not letting herself feel guilty for not wanting to be his wife, and changed out of her nightgown and into a white dress for a day out in the town. It has been a while since she had been out and about, shopping and mingling with the rest of society. Besides, she had to kill some time until she had to meet up with her beau.

As she stepped out of the theater, Faith began to think of The Phantom. She understood the need to get out of that dark, dreary lair, but all for her? Just to get a rose, when he detested being out in the public so much? Surely he had another reason. Whatever it was, she hoped being out did him some good.

While he himself was out and about, Negaduck spotted Victoria after returning to Faith's dressing room with a boxed gift under his arm. She seemed to know a thing or two about this Phantom fellow that Faith talked about so much. He was beginning to learn that the Phantom fellow Faith spoke of so often was more than just a figment of her imagination, more than just a legend, more than just a ghost. There really was something there, and wanted to know more about how he came to be infamous as he was, and what made him tick. He was doing this for Faith's sake, was well as for his curiosity.

"Victoria, may I ask you some things?" He asked, clearing his throat as he watched her organize the costume storage room.

"It all depends what it is. . . . " She responded dryly, dusting off a pirate's costume.

"You seem to know a thing or two about The Phantom of The Opera . . . "

For a moment, there was silence in the room. Victoria left her work as is and walked out, leading the mallard away. "I know no more about him than anyone else here does . . . "

She was lying, and Negaduck picked right up on it. It was time to back her into a corner a bit, let the truth come out. What he didn't know was that she was lying to protect herself from The Phantom himself. If he were to share secrets with others, they mustn't be spilled out to everyone. Should that happen, the hounds of hell would surely break loose.

"You do know something . . . " He said suspiciously, blocking her as she was going to go up stage. Negaduck was known for his temper, and it was beginning to show.

Victoria, feeling uneasy, came onto her defense and threw her hands back. "I don't know what you are talking about, sir. I know nothing, so please don't ask."

"This is for Faith's sakes!" Negaduck insisted, letting out a growl. In spite of his gentlemanly nature, he had moments when he was truly intimidating, and like his temper, it was beginning to show.

As far as the black-haired she-duck was concerned, the drake's temper seemed to be as bad as The Phantom's, and was every bit as stubborn as he was. "Oh, very well . . . "

Cautiously, Victoria began to go back into the past.

"It was many years ago, at least twenty, no, thirty years ago, in New York's Coney Island. It was at a traveling show featuring the oddities of bird kind. There was something in that show that I will never forget . . . " She paused to look around suspiciously, as if being watched. "There was a young rooster, locked away in a cage."

So far, so intriguing, Negaduck thought. "Please do go on . . . "

"Not just any ordinary rooster, sir. A prodigy! A scholar, a musician, a skilled architect . . . "

Negaduck placed everything together. "A composer . . . "

"An inventor as well!" Victoria added. "He once bragged about building a maze of mirrors for the Shah of Persia." She suddenly shuddered. "He was also a freak of nature. More beast than bird."

The mention of this fellow being a freak of brought up the subject of The Phantom having to wear a mask. He wasn't just wearing it for decoration. "Deformed, was he?"

"From birth," Victoria nodded. "Then, he escaped one night. They spent hours, months searching for him. When no trace was found, it was presumed that he had died. It was a frigid January when he got himself free, you see, and he was wearing nothing but the scant, tattered clothing that the master of the fair had given him. Eventually, everyone but me had forgotten all about him."

"So . . . That is who the Phantom is . . . " Negaduck quietly concluded, feeling a little bad for doubting Faith so much. He watched as Victoria turned and left; she seemed as if in a daze; there had to be even more behind this.

"I have said too much, my Lord, there had been too many accidents . . . "

Negaduck followed her as she walked outside and towards her carriage that waited for her, and noticed she was still in a daze. "Accidents, you say?"

Victoria stared down at him blankly as she climbed in, breaking all eye contact when he looked up at her.

"Too many . . . "

Disclaimer: All characters are © Disney, excluding Faith Mallard who is is © Tammy Wraight, and Victoria and Tatiana Volatili, whom belong to Roaming Tigress. Story based on Gaston Leroux's "The Phantom of The Opera." Lyrics and lyric segments are © Lord Andrew Lloyd Weber/Really Useful Theater Company/Cameron Mackintosh. Ayesha belongs to Susan Kay, who had wrote the novel, _The Phantom_. No suing me!


	13. Insult to Injury

Stranger Than You Dreamt It

* * *

By Roaming Tigress and Tammy Wraight, whom allowed me use of her character, Faith Conway

**Chapter Twelve**

Insult to Injury

In the office of the managers, things weren't going smoothly. Drake Mallard was flipping through the score of _Don Juan Triumphant_, when he noticed Fenton passing by. He quickly waved him in.

"Do you remember that manuscript?" The lead manager was calm as he asked this, but Fenton could tell that his rage was brewing just by the look in his eyes.

"Well, yes, but what about it? I believed you called it a masterpiece."

"A masterpiece, you say? It's a managerial nightmare, is what it is what it is!" He sharply replied. On the desk were three notes, addressed to the managers.

"To add insult to injury, we have new letters from our favorite recluse, too . . ." Drake said dryly, handing Fenton the one that was addressed to him.

"Dear Drake; regarding our orchestration, we desperately need a recast of players, starting with the bassoon, and that first trombone. I expect nothing but the best from you, sir. Signed, O.G."

"Dear Fenton; it has come to my attention that some of the chorus members are also in dire need of being replaced. I've managed to assign some small roles to those who are, to be frank, inept at acting. In the meantime, see to it that whoever replaces these roles has some sense of pitch. I don't have the time or the patience to tutor anymore members of the cast. You would not want the audience to be disappointed now, would you? Signed, O.G."

"If he wants these recasts done, he can do it himself!" Infuriated, Drake crinkled up his letter and tossed it in the garbage can. "Who does he think he is, ordering us around?"

Fenton lightly shrugged his shoulders. "The opera ghost?"

"I know who he is!" Drake snapped, grabbing his associate by the collar of his grey jacket. "What I mean is that If it's not one thing, it's another! Can he not to be satisfied with what we already have? The next thing he'll be complaining about is that the curtains are the wrong colour, or that the stagehands need to be fired because they kept leering at the ballerina girls!" With a huff, he released Fenton and sat back down to skim through more of the manuscript. "Honestly, this place has gone from the management office to the opera ghost's complaint department."

"Actually . . ." Fenton started, adjusting the collar of his jacket.

Drake smacked himself in the head, jumping to conclusions in that he had jinxed what he had said. "Don't tell me!

It seemed as if it wasn't the managers that were having a difficult time, but Victoria as well. She stormed into the office, letter in hand. Another complaint, another headache for the opera house. Not a moment to soon, Grizlikoff charged his way in -- also with a letter of complaint in hand.

"If you are not going to do anything, I will!" The Russian bear roared, slamming a huge brown, furry fist down on the table. "We demand larger roles! Between Victoria and me, we only have eight lines! It's an insult!"

The two drakes although taken aback by having Grizlikoff nearly break the table in half with his rage, managed to keep their cool. "Please, understand, sir, the roles have been already set, we cannot change them. Besides, Ms. Volatili's acting range is limited; she's a ballet teacher and an emergency replacement for Morgana. I don't mean this as a setback for you,"

Victoria became angered at this comment, true as it was. "Oh, honestly, the things I do for this art!"

"If you can call that rubbish art!" Grizlikoff scoffed, pointing at the manuscript.

As if on cue, Faith stepped in, followed by Lord Negaduck.

"Ah, here's our little flower now." Victoria remarked sarcastically, casting a stabbing glare at Faith. Not surprisingly, the Australian got the same look returned to her. She couldn't help it though; she was jealous, madly jealous that a mere chorus girl got the position and not somebody who, before becoming a ballet teacher, had attended a prestigious school for singing and acting.

Fenton noticed the stabbing looks exchanged between both of the she-ducks, and before they cold could get into an altercation, he made an announcement. "Miss Conway, I think it would be fit to consider yourself the lady of the hour." He pulled out a chair, motioning for Faith to take a seat.

"You have earned the largest role in this Don Juan Triumphant," Drake coolly explained, reaching into the desk to retriever her lines for rehearsal. "You have my congratulations."

Faith was beyond thrilled -- never before had she been in a lead role. "I . . . I don't know what to say. I mean, I -- " Faith became quiet again when she realized that she would be singing for The Phantom, not for her audience, not for her fiancé, not for herself. She was desperate to break the invisible chains that he held her down with, and stepping down from the lead role was the start of it.

"You don't need to say anything, Faith," Negaduck answered, patted her on the shoulder, overlooking her concern. "You earned that role, Faith. It was born for you."

"Conway? Hah. She doesn't have the voice . . . "Victoria remarked, partially to herself and at Faith.

Overhearing this, Drake saw fit to reprimand her. "Volatili, was that comment even necessary?"

"Indeed it as," Victoria could take it no longer; she had to say what she thought out loud. "She's the one who's behind this mess, our miss innocent, perfect Faith Conway. We didn't have to look far, did we?"

"How dare you, you evil wicked woman, to accuse me because of your jealousy!" Faith snarled, practically leaping off the chair at the accuser. "You just don't want me to see me succeed in my career!" Had Negaduck taken a firm grip on her arm, she would've surely had given her a very well-deserved slap across her snooty little bill.

Scoffing, Victoria waved her defense away. "I am not a fool, Faith. I can see right through you. "

"I don't want to have any part of this plot!" Faith shouted, trying to struggle away from Negaduck's hold.

Hearing this, both managers gasped. Initially she seemed quite excited by the news; they knew wit was just what she had dreamed of when they first had come to known her. So why now does she suddenly does she want to back out?

"Why ever for?" Fenton asked. "Isn't it what you wanted?"

She's a perfectionist, Victoria thought. Just like The Phantom.

"It's entirely up to you, Miss Conway," Drake sighed, placing the manuscript away in the drawer. "We can't force you, but I really wish you would consider, though. It is your duty."

"She's backing out," Victoria muttered to Grizlikoff. "If the poor sheila can't stand the pressure of acting, she shouldn't be on stage."

"I cannot sing it, duty or not," Faith replied to Drake. "I have my reason to step down from the role, and I wish to keep that reason personal."

"They can't make you, Faith," Negaduck told her, giving the managers a scornful glance. "If you don't want to take the position they're offering you, they can find a replacement."

Tatiana came in, and to the manager's weariness, she had a note from The Phantom. She opened it, and read it out loud to the managers. "Fondest greetings to all! Just before rehearsal begins, I would like to elaborate on my recasting. Miss Volatili may stay, but she must to be taught to act. That pitiful act of strutting around the stage is simply not tolerable in such a prestigious establishment such as this."

Victoria gasped. "Not tolerable?!" She stormed out, not wanting to hear anymore.

Tatiana continued. "Our Don Juan must lose weight, it's not healthy for a man of Grizlikoff's age to be as heavy as he is, nor is it attractive." The bear just grit his teeth at this remark, and left the office, slamming the door behind him.

Taking the note from the girl, Drake read what was left of the note. "My managers must learn that their place is in an office, not the arts. As for Faith Conway, she does her best. It is true her voice is good, and she knows that, but she knows that if she wants to excel she still has much more to learn, If pride will let her return to me. Her teacher, her angel of music, your obedient friend, O.G."

Hearing this comment was like a kick to the gut to Faith. She's spent months training her voice with The Phantom, how much better does she need to get?There was more to her return than just her voice, of course, and she knew it.

"The answer is staring us into the face," Negaduck said, his eyes alit. "We could ensnare our clever friend, if we play his game. Perform his work, but we have to remember, we hold the ace. If Conway performs, he will surely attend, especially this being her first lead role."

"If we keep the doors barred, and the policemen on ready, we'll catch ourselves a Phantom." While he started work on his plotting, Victoria slipped in to retrieve a file from atop of the desk.

"That is madness!" She exclaimed, knowing what he was capable of doing. "You may think that the tide will turn, but this Phantom is much cleverer than you give him credit. He knows magic, ladies and gentlemen. Simply keeping him trapped inside the opera house will not capture him."

Faith also shared her apprehension for Negaduck's plot, especially the one being chosen to be The Phantom's live bait. She clutched to the sleeve of his jacket, looking into her eyes with fright. "Negaduck, Victoria is right. Please don't put me through this ordeal by fire. He'll take me; we'll be parted for ever. What I once used to dream I now dread. If he finds me, it won't ever end, and he'll always be there, singing songs in my head." Ignoring the strange looks from the others, Faith left the office with her beau.

"You said yourself, that he as nothing but a rooster," Negaduck said in awe, holding her hand as he shut the door behind them. "Yet while he lives, he will haunt us till we're dead . . ." He looked over his shoulder with determination, as if staring the devil in the eye.

_Your reign will end, Phantom._

Disclaimer: All characters are © Disney, excluding Faith Mallard who is is © Tammy Wraight, and Victoria and Tatiana Volatili, whom belong to Roaming Tigress. Story based on Gaston Leroux's "The Phantom of The Opera." Lyrics and lyric segments are © Lord Andrew Lloyd Weber/Really Useful Theater Company/Cameron Mackintosh. Ayesha belongs to Susan Kay, who had wrote the novel, _The Phantom_. No suing me!


	14. Wishing You Were Somehow Here Again

**Stranger Than You Dreamt It**  
By Roaming Tigress and Tammy Wraight, whom allowed me use of her character, Faith Conway

**Chapter Thirteen**  
Wishing You Were Somehow Here Again

"To my father's grave, please." Faith instructed the driver of a team of white horses as she got into the carriage.

It was night, the coldest one in the year. Snow was lightly covering the ground, and the wind was violent. Still, Faith had to get away. Just as she was leaving the opera house for the night following rehearsal for Don Juan Triumphant, she happened upon the hung corpse of Grizlikoff and an old canine stagehand in the gallows of the backstage area. There was no doubt about it; it was the work of The Phantom of The Opera. It wasn't the only incident that he caused that night; the piano played by itself, and the other members of the cast, excluding her, were seemingly forced into chorus.

The carriage took her through an avenue of oak trees that lead down towards the, and stopped at a tall iron gate that read _St. Canardis Cemetery_.

"Looks like the place is closed, missus," the driver gruffly told her, noticing that that the place had been closed up for the night. "I could take you back home if you'd like."

Not the brightest bloke, that one. Faith subconsciously rolled her eyes, and turned back to him. "I can see it's locked. I'll be fine, really. Just go on about your night, sir. Thank you for the ride here."

With a nod, the carriage driver did just that, leaving Faith to slip through a missing bar in the gate. Taking a deep breath, she made her way though a trail that cut through a forest. All was still, almost too still. To soothe herself, she sung Tran fixedly to herself as she went further into it. As a child, she used to sing as a comfort.

_In sleep he sang to me,  
In dreams he came . . .  
That voice which calls to me  
And speaks my name . . ._

_Little Lotte thought of everything and nothing . . .  
Her Father promised her that he would send her the Angel of Music . . ._

_Her father promised her . . .  
Her father promised her . . ._

As Faith came at the end of the trail, she stood before an iron-fenced mausoleum that was covered in moss, and in the center there is a pyramid of skulls surrounding a large, Celtic-style cross.

_You were once  
My one companion . . .  
You were all  
That mattered . . .  
You were once  
A friend and father -  
Then my world  
Was shattered . . ._

_Wishing you were  
Somehow here again . . .  
Wishing you were  
Somehow near . . .  
Sometimes it seemed  
If I just dreamed,  
Somehow you would  
Be here . . ._

_Wishing I could  
Hear your voice again . . .  
Knowing that I  
Never would . . .  
Dreaming of you  
Won't help me to do_

_All that you dreamed  
I could . . .  
Passing bells  
And sculpted angels,_

_Cold and monemental,  
Seem, for you,  
The wrong companions -  
You were warm and gentle . . ._

_Too many years  
Fighting back tears . . .  
Why can't the past  
Just die . . .?_

_Wishing you were  
Somehow here again . . .  
Knowing we must_

_Say goodbye . . .  
Try to forgive . . .  
Teach me to live . . .  
Give me the strength  
To try . . ._

_No more memories,  
No more silent tears . . .  
No more gazing across  
The wasted years . . .  
Help me say goodbye._

After Faith said her prayer to her father, she started to leave. She was unaware that The Phantom was watching her from behind the cross, his figure obscured by the shadows of the towering trees behind him. "Wandering child, so lost, so helpless, you are yearning for my guidance . . . "His voice was gentle as he beckoned her.

Changing his voice was one of the things he learned shortly after escaping from the traveling fair, and the trick worked. Faith didn't recognize the voice of The Phantom's. It sounded so much different than she's ever heard it before; it was softer without the haunted edge that she was so used to hearing. The closest it sounded like was that of a long-lost family member -- her father.

"Father . . . ?" She asked with a catch to her voice, again coming up to the iron fence that surrounded the cross. Tears were welling in her eyes as memories of long ago came back to her.

_This is my Angel of Music, not The Phantom! At last he has come to m, just as father had promised. All along he was so close to me._

"Have you forgotten your angel . . . ?" The Phantom asked, his change of voice having an increasingly hypnotic affect on Faith. "Too long you've wandered in winter, far from my far-reaching gaze . . ."

Unknown to both, Lord Negaduck was watching, fascinated with what he was seeing but at the same time, fearing for her safety. In a way, he felt like he was caged, unable to run out and grab Faith for safety, but urged to do so. Once again she returns to him . . . Who are you, angel of music? Show yourself. For the moment, he seemed almost as drawn to The Phantom as Faith did. Interested as he was, he was ready to spring out should something happen between the two of them.

Faith reproached the mausoleum, before she backed . "Wildly my mind beats against you – "

"You denied me, turning from true beauty . . . Do not shun me . . . Come to your strange Angel . . ."

Faith came even closer, whispering. "Angel of Music, I've denied you, turning from true beauty . . . Angel of Music! My protector . . . Come to me, strange Angel . . . "

"Angel of Darkness! Cease this torment!" Negaduck demanded, bursting from his hiding spot from behind the stone wall. By the time he had reached her, however, he was too late. Faith had reached the supposed Angel of Music before he could get her in time – or had he?

The Phantom, ignoring him, started to lead Faith away as he took her by the hand. "I am your Angel of Music, come with me, Angel of Music . . ."

"Faith, whatever you believe, this man – this thing is not your father!" Negaduck snarled, throwing himself at the fence. "Let her go for goodness sakes, Faith!"

Hearing the lord's gravely voice, Faith snapped out of her trance and managed to break free from The Phantom's grasp. After clumsily clambering over the fence, she clung to Negaduck who held her protectively against himself. There was nothing now that would be able to pry her away from him now, and the two of them slowly backed away as The Phantom brought out a cane that had a skull impaled on top of it. Before they could react, the rooster pointed it at them and a ball of fire came shooting out of the skull's eyes, landing just inches away from Negaduck's feet.

"Bravo, sir, such spirited words!" The Phantom laughed. "Lets see how far you dare go!" Two more fireballs were fired at his direction, and he leapt away just before either of them where singed.

Staring up in defiance at the Phantom, he whispered hastily to Faith. "Start heading off for home, Faith. I can handle this rooster myself!"

"I can't leave you here!" Faith replied in desperation, her eyes nearly popping out from her head. "He will kill you!"

"Just do it!" Negaduck ordered as he ducked just in time as another fireball was launched at his direction. "More deception? More violence?" He asked The Phantom, daring him to him to give him the worst.

"Negaduck, no . . . "Faith pleaded, grabbing him by the arm only to be shoved aside for her safety. Still, she did not obey Negaduck's order; she loved him too much to even see him defend her.

Behind his mask was a cruel grin on The Phantom's distorted face as Negaduck boldly coming up to him. He scoffed, firing another fireball at the wealthy drake mallard -- and this time succeed in having one hit him. Alas, it wasn't the full-blown, instant cremation as much as he hoped.

"That's right, my good lord, keep walking this way!"

Negaduck steeled himself, holding onto his arm that had been burnt. "You can't win her love by making her a prisoner!"

The Phantom rolled his eyes at that remark, watching once again as Faith tried to pull her beau away from him. Oh, guess again! You do not know who you are dealing with, you worthless fop!

"I'm here; I'm here, the angel of death!" The Phantom declared maniacally, holding his staff up high above his head and firing another three fire balls at Negaduck.

"Come, sir, don't stop, don't stop! The fun has only begun!"

Unable to take it any longer, Faith threw herself at Negaduck, knocking him off of his feet and rolling him away from being burned again. "Negaduck, stop it!"

Finally and reluctantly, Negaduck surrendered to her demand. It wasn't worth dealing with The Phantom now, seeing that his girl was safe from his grasp – for now. Taking Faith by the arm, he got up and made his retreat to the safety of a passing carriage, almost feeling the punishing, cold glare from The Phantom who roared his fury into the night.

"Now let it be war upon you both!"

Disclaimer: All characters are © Disney, excluding Faith Mallard who is is © Tammy Wraight, and Victoria and Tatiana Volatili, whom belong to Roaming Tigress. Story based on Gaston Leroux's "The Phantom of The Opera." Lyrics and lyric segments are © Lord Andrew Lloyd Weber/Really Useful Theater Company/Cameron Mackintosh. Ayesha belongs to Susan Kay, who had wrote the novel, The Phantom. No suing me!


End file.
